A New Life: Act 2
by Quwinntessa Starber
Summary: Sequal to A New Life: Act 1. The children are found, but they harbor a secret that will affect all the G-Boys. The trouble with Quatre's sisters isn't over, and trouble with Trowa is just beginning...
1. Chapter 1

The hatch to the Angel opened, and Quatre unlocked the safety harness he'd strapped himself into over ten hours before. He blinked his eyes at the bright lights of the hangar before ducking and stepping out of the cockpit.  
  
Gentle hands grabbed his own and pulled him the rest of the way out and into a strong male chest. Quatre sighed and then smiled up at Trowa.  
  
"Miss me?"  
  
Trowa didn't answer; he didn't have to; the link told Quatre all he needed to know. Instead, Trowa leaned down and planted a firm and passionate kiss on his lips. Quatre wondered just how much sleep the lovers were going to get that night.  
  
Separating, the two moved towards the main entrance. They'd been the last two Angels to take off, so the other pilots had beaten them here. Here was the PeaceMillion2, the battleship that Zechs called home.  
  
Floating softly to the ground, he and Trowa moved quietly and quickly down the main corridor. Quatre let Trowa lead since he'd been on this very ship less than a month earlier. Together they grabbed a hold of the people mover and let the machine do the walking for them.  
  
At the correct door, Trowa grabbed his hand, and they stepped off into the waiting room.  
  
"Jeez guys, what took you so long?" Duo was situated on Heero's lap, his good humor still in place even after ten hours away from Heero's mouth and other body parts.  
  
"Trowa's sub-engines had some problems; I had to tow him in. The mechanics saw it; they're looking into it right now." Quatre tugged Trowa over to one of the chairs and made his lover sit before kneeling by his feet and resting his head in Trowa's lap. Snuggling in to get more comfortable, he sighed as Trowa ran long fingers over his scalp.  
  
"Great, now all we have to do is wait for that blonde haired Goldilocks!" Duo had never liked Zechs much; no one was quite sure why. When asked, Duo just shrugged his shoulders and said he didn't generally like people who tried to kill his lover, blow up the Earth, and then become a good guy; it didn't sit well with him.  
  
"Maxwell, for the love of-just shut up and sit there. I had to listen to you gab the whole way here! Now shut up and keep silent!" Wufei was irritated. It seems that the doctor from L2 had actually propositioned Sally-who adamantly refused; but Wufei still wasn't happy about leaving her behind. All of that, and only his and Duo's coms had worked the entire way there, leaving Wufei to listen to Duo talk for the last ten straight hours.  
  
"Wufei, I wasn't that bad!"  
  
"I seriously doubt that!" Heero smirked behind Duo, who immediately swung around and attacked his offensive mouth with his own.  
  
"I see they're still up to their same old tricks." The group spun around at Zechs's voice. The proud man stood in the doorway, his arm wrapped around his wife-the still very beautiful Noin. But the surprise was in the small boy she carried in her arms-almost an exact copy of Zechs. He was three and half year old Treize, their son.  
  
"Ms. Noin!" Quatre was off his knees and embracing Noin in a tight hug immediately.  
  
"Quatre! It's so good to see you. How have you been? Oh, Treize what do you say?"  
  
The little boy ducked into his mother's neck and gave him a shy smile. "Hi."  
  
"Hello, Treize. How are you?"  
  
Smiling, the little boy only ducked back into his mother, occasionally peeking out to see his "Uncle" Quatre.  
  
"Oh, he's been busy. Why don't you tell Quatre about your new puppy? I bet he'd love to hear about Jumper." But the little boy only shyly hid back into his mother, shaking his head softly.  
  
Quatre smiled at Noin. Since the end of the war, they'd stayed close, and when she'd finally married Zechs, Quatre had been in attendance. A simple wedding for simple people; Noin and Zechs now spent all of their time in the outer space division of the Preventers, which suited them fine.  
  
"Noin, I'll take him." Zechs reached with open arms to take his son. The little boy quickly scrambled into his father's embrace before once again ducking into his shoulder. Zechs only smiled.  
  
Taking the opportunity that was afforded to him, Quatre again embraced the woman who had been like a rock for him towards the end of the war.  
  
"Quatre, I was so sorry to hear about Dorothy. How are you doing?" She smiled kindly at him.  
  
"I'm doing better. She was a dear friend who will be missed."  
  
"Of course. But tell me, how have you been otherwise? It's been so long. Usually Zechs gets all the visitors." She winked at him, and Quatre smiled brightly in return.  
  
"Things have been a little rocky for me lately, but I'm working through them. Actually that's partly why we're here."  
  
"That's right! I heard you had some special agenda about this mission. Treize and I were visiting the zoo on L3 when the com came through. Is it anything I can help you prepare for?"  
  
He shook his head. "No, actually we're all set. Trowa's Angel had some booster problems, but the mechanics are fixing that up right now. Hopefully we'll be up within the hour." He looked to Zechs for confirmation.  
  
"That'll be fine. The faster we get in there, the faster we can take them down." Zechs placed a kiss on his son's cheek before setting him on his feet. The little boy moved quickly to his mother's side and hid behind her leg. "Hard to believe he's a prince, hn?" Zechs smiled, showing his pride for the little boy.  
  
"I'm not a-a prince, I'm a pilot!" That said, Treize ducked once again into hiding.  
  
* * *  
  
"This is Angel 4, target reached, exiting mobile, copy?"  
  
"Copy that Angel 4, proceed to target, outer perimeter secure."  
  
"Roger!"  
  
Once again, Quatre threw open the hatch of his suit and exited. His feet fell hard to the ground as he jumped the ten or so feet to the floor. The hangar was dark. Only the emergency lights were flashing. He knew that the other Angel suits were flying in, but his had left the battlefield first, hoping to have some extra time to find the children.  
  
His entire focus was the little boy. After the debriefing, they'd learned that Trowa's Angel was going to need about four hours worth of work. They were taken to a set of mock quarters and told kindly to rest up. They were barracks, and not at all conducive to the type of "resting" he and Trowa had had in mind. Resigning themselves to actually sleeping, they'd settled into the lower bunk and took a nap.  
  
The images had hit Quatre almost the second he'd closed his eyes. More vibrant and painful now that he was actually in space. The images took on a life of their own as Quatre could only watch. He'd seen the little boy huddled in a corner, his knees tucked into his chest, rocking back and forth. Then from the corner of his eye, he'd watched a metal door slide open, a sign with the word "NEO" on it visible through the open door.  
  
A man in a white lab coat entered and immediately started beating on the little boy, showing no mercy. Quatre had screamed, demanding he stop, but he couldn't be heard in this dreamscape-only witness. He was amazed to see that the little boy fought back, kicking and screaming, seemingly heedless to the injuries he'd already sustained. Finally though, he'd been overpowered and lay defenseless as the man continued to kick and hit him savagely. But it was the boy's eyes that held Quatre spellbound. They seemed to be looking straight at him-as if the boy saw him. It took a moment for Quatre to realize that the boy wasn't looking at him but looking at the person he was in the dream. He turned his head then and saw his warped reflection in a sheet of metal.  
  
A little girl, no older than the boy, with hair the color of white snow and sunshine, but dulled with pain and suffering. He couldn't make out all of her features, but he knew her hair, knew what to look for.  
  
He'd awoken screaming, with Trowa desperately trying to shake him awake; the other pilots huddled around the bunk. With fast paced words borne from fear, he told the others about the little girl, explaining what she looked like. Then he told them about the sign "NEO" on the wall. Heero translated the word "Neo" into "New" and suddenly the idea that these children were perhaps genetics-and weapons-took on a whole new meaning.  
  
After delivering Quatre's find to Zechs, the pilots had boarded the Angels and taken off. Now nearly three hours later, Quatre was running down the hallways of the Tragona faction's headquarters, moving cautiously but with great speed. He wasn't sure how, but he could sense the children close by. All around him people scrambled in panic, too worried about being caught in the terrorist faction than to concern themselves with Quatre.  
  
Long metal hallways with little decoration, and a cold finite feeling of space surrounded him. Quatre had been sensing the foreboding since soon after the dream, but had kept quiet on the short journey to the station. Standard issue satellite halogen lights lined the walls, while that sickening buzzing sound emanated from them. It rattled Quatre's teeth and set his body on edge even more than it was already.  
  
The battle onto the satellite had been difficult, but he'd avoided most of the fighting, leaving it to Wufei and Trowa. Heero had quickly avoided the fifty or so mobile suits to gain access to the complex, while Duo had provided cover and distraction to his lover's progress. Outside the walls, Quatre could still hear the sounds of metal crashing into the outer hull of the satellite and knew that Trowa and Wufei were still fighting. The Angels were far superior to the factions mobile suits, but Quatre still worried for his lover's safety.  
  
Duo had mentioned getting out of the fighting just as Quatre had found an opening onto the satellite; he was sure Duo was already onboard.  
  
He wasn't disappointed as he rounded a corner and nearly collided head on with Duo.  
  
"Quatre! Man, am I glad to see you! This place is a mad house!"  
  
"I know what you mean. But they're close. I can feel them. It's like hearing children calling for help down a well; I can't hear their words, but I can feel their vibrations." He didn't realize he was clutching his heart until Duo reached out to steady him.  
  
"Quatre, are you ok?"  
  
"Yeah, we just have to find them. Remember, look for the sign "NEO"."  
  
"Sure, no problem; my Angel's in the Eastern hangar. Heero's here too. He's in the main control room trying to download as much incriminating evidence as he can. My man and computers," Duo shook his head. "Listen, I'll take that corridor, and you take the other; this place isn't that big we're bound to find them soon."  
  
Quatre nodded. "Alright, but stay in communication. If that little boy has been beaten as badly as I saw today I'm going to need help getting him out of here."  
  
"Got it! I think Trowa and Wufei are still in the zone, but I heard Wufei saying something about getting out soon before I docked. They should be here fairly quickly."  
  
They nodded their understanding and switched to the same com frequency before Duo went one way, and Quatre moved the other.  
  
Suddenly a loud crashing and violent shaking surrounded him, and the lights went totally dead. He'd picked a corridor that hadn't had very many people in it to begin with, but as he stood perfectly still searching for his flashlight, he felt the other people brush past him on their way out. As he finally got the light on, and a thin beam pointing down the hallway, he began to smell the acrid stench of smoke. Reasoning that the last crash had started a fire somewhere close by, Quatre hurried his search, praying that the children weren't down this way.  
  
Door after door revealed no sign of young occupants, and while the smoke began to thicken, he listened for the com to announce that Duo had found them. But static was all he heard, and so he persisted, searching desperately.  
  
At the end of the hallway, he found a service elevator; and knowing he was on the ground floor, pushed the doors open and climbed in. His mind told him he should wait for back up, but when he'd opened the elevator doors, the smell of smoke had only increased; the fire was coming from above.  
  
With years of training under his belt, Quatre climbed the cables before reaching the second floor. Prying the doors open, he was assaulted by a cloud of darkness and blinding heat immediately. Desperate for air, he turned back towards the back draft and inhaled deeply, before charging blindly forward.  
  
He fumbled for a moment, swinging his flashlight back and forth, only to encounter a wall of darkness the light could not slay. He pressed forward, shoving through the heat, searching for the sign that would show him where the children were.  
  
Suddenly over the crackling of the electric wires searing, he heard a voice come over the com.  
  
"This is 01, mission accomplished, returning to Angel."  
  
"Negative on that, 01. I finished with the Northern corridor and it's clear. No sign of the children or anything else for that matter. I'm working my way back towards your position. We'll do a sweep of the Western corridor together."  
  
"Copy that, 02, I'm on my way."  
  
They couldn't find them. Panic sliced through him. He realized he needed to breathe, and he was too far from the elevator shaft to get a clean breath. Staggering into one of the walls, he pushed open a door panel and stepped inside. Thankfully the smoke hadn't reached into the airtight rooms yet, and Quatre took a few deep breaths before he stepped back into the tear inducing smoke.  
  
He swung his flashlight to the left, hoping to see something useful, but again there was nothing.  
  
Suddenly a door exploded outwards directly in front of him, and a wall of pure fire streamed forward. He stepped back, but his arm caught in the blaze, and he struggled painfully to put it out. His arm was burned that much he could already see. The skin was already blistering on top where he'd shielded his eyes.  
  
Using his abilities in a way that would have caused Corinne to have a heart attack, he pushed the pain into the back of his mind. He'd deal with it later. He knew doing this would let Trowa know-wherever he was-that he'd been injured, but he didn't have a choice.  
  
And then suddenly, he heard it-the faint sound of crying. He knew it wasn't a vocal cry; it echoed in his head in a way that couldn't be done in the physical plane. The pleas for help vibrated down his soul, and he pushed through the dying flames to continue forward; they were close.  
  
His com crackled to life again, this time announcing the presence of Wufei. "I'm in the Eastern corridor. This side doesn't have an upper level. I'm moving to meet 02 in the Western."  
  
"Copy that. We'll meet you at the adjunct. There's no one here."  
  
"Roger."  
  
The blue lettering on the wall caught his attention, and with a sense of excitement and gratitude, he read the word "NEO." He turned to his right and saw the doorway, a high-level security system on the door. Quatre reached for the keypad but immediately dropped his hand away; the door was rigged with a new type of security device. If he entered the pass code wrong three times, it would explode, killing him and the occupants instantly. He had to find another way.  
  
"01, this is 04, I've found them. They're on the upper level, Southern side. But the door's got a new Piloco security lock on it. I can't get through. I need the code, and I needed it yesterday!"  
  
"Those things are impossible to crack, at least in under a couple of hours. You'll have to find another way in."  
  
"Negative, there is no other way, repeat, no other way. I have to get in there!" Desperation seeped into his voice, and another explosion and ball of fire sounded as one more door was decimated. He was running out of time.  
  
"Hold on, 04, we're working our way to you."  
  
"Negative, there's a wall of fire right behind me, you won't be able to get by. Get 03 to run his Angel into this side. If he can make us a new opening, I might get out of this one alive."  
  
"Quatre, if you die now, I'm totally going to kill you!"  
  
"Just get me the code!"  
  
The smoke filled his lungs, and he couldn't prevent the coughing fit that over took him. He could hardly breathe, and he knew if he didn't get some clean air into his lungs soon, he'd be in a whole lot of trouble. He was grateful that Trowa couldn't hear their com signals from his Angel. He didn't need his lover being reckless at a time like this.  
  
Thinking perhaps that the children on the other side could open the door without the Piloco code, he banged on it with his uninjured hand and called through. "IF YOU CAN HEAR ME, I'M HERE TO RESCUE YOU! IF YOU CAN, OPEN THE DOOR. IT ISN'T SAFE FOR YOU IN THERE!" He waited for a moment, hoping to hear the latch spring, but after a full minute and one exploding door later, he thought perhaps they couldn't hear him.  
  
Directed panic laced through him, and Quatre settled his mind to the task at hand. Thinking the easiest solution is often overlooked, Quatre pressed into the keypad "NEO." An error message came back to him, and he swore softly to himself. This wasn't going to work; he didn't have time to think this through or to make an educated guess.  
  
Another round of coughing caught up with him, and he dropped to his knees as his vision began to blur; he needed help, fast.  
  
"This is 04, does anyone copy?"  
  
"05 here, we're attempting to find another route to you. Hold on."  
  
He wanted to protest that he didn't have time to hold on, but what could he do? Standing, his legs shook under him as he moved again to the keypad. Deciding to try science instead of blind luck, Quatre pulled out an ultraviolet light and pressed it to the keypad, hoping in the dim light he would be able to make out a set of fingerprints. He cursed himself for typing on the keys before he'd thought of this, for the keys were smeared by his own bloodied fingers.  
  
Suddenly, he heard a soft sound, like a chanting whisper in the back of his mind. He closed his eyes and listened, the sound growing louder. It was the alphabet song, sung for centuries by children to learn the English alphabet. But there was something different in this version; this one didn't start at the beginning, and didn't end with the letter 'z'. Instead it seemed to start at strange places and then end at others.  
  
He strained against the crackling electric wiring, trying desperately to hear the letters, knowing instantly that one of the children was trying to give him the pass code. He didn't let his mind drift to the idea that this type of mental communication was unheard of-that while empathy was a scientific fact, telepathy had yet to be considered real by the scientific community. He didn't care.  
  
"W.X.Y.A.B.C." a pause, "W.X.Y.A.B.C." pause "W.X.Y.A.B.C."  
  
He punched in the letter "Z"  
  
Then the song changed, different letters this time. "A.B.C.D." a pause "A.B.C.D." and another pause "A.B.C.D."  
  
He jabbed at the letter "E"  
  
A new set again. ".S.T.U.V.W.X.Y.Z" again ".S.T.U.V.W.X.Y.Z" and again ".S.T.U.V.W.X.Y.Z"  
  
There wasn't any logic to this one. He just had a feeling, and pressed "R"  
  
A rushing sound then settled into his mind, and it took him a long coughing moment to realize that it was another string of letters, only this one, very much sounded like the way a child would sing them.  
  
"LMNP.LMNP.LMNP.LMNP" He thought at first he'd missed a letter, but then realized what it was. He pressed in the letter "O"  
  
ZERO  
  
The door unlatched. Using strength he didn't know he had left, he used both his injured and uninjured hands to push at the panel before he stepped inside.  
  
Immediately he knew where he was. Everything was familiar, and just as scary as it had been in his dream. There were no lights, so Quatre swung his flashlight around the sterile looking room. With a raspy voice that spoke of smoke damage, he called out. "Don't be-be afraid.I'm here to rescue you. It-it's not safe for you-you here." He coughed, clutching at his chest, in pain. But the movement sent the beam of his flashlight into the corner of the room, and there he saw huddled in the corner a pair of terrified eyes.  
  
Quickly he moved to the small bundle of a child and then hunkered down to appear less frightening. "My name is Quatre. I'm going to get you out of here." He saw it was the little boy and immediately reached out to comfort him, but the boy jerked away at his advance, and Quatre pulled back just as quickly, not wanting to frighten the child more.  
  
He was stunned to see that besides being slightly frightened, the boy didn't look hurt at all. Quatre felt a great sense of relief at the little boy not being subjected to his earlier vision. He was wrapped in a blanket; and it wasn't until it moved slightly that Quatre realized the little girl was lying head down in his lap. Slowly he reached out his hand and peeled the blanket from her tiny face. Large crystal green eyes stared back at him; and Quatre was shocked and frightened by the dead look in them. Her eyes seemed to hold him, forcing him to look at her, to see her agony, yet know nothing.  
  
Another explosion had him blinking and shaking his head. Looking away from those dead eyes, he looked to the little boy. "I know you're frightened, but you have to trust me. I'm the one you've been calling to. I'm going to get you out of here. I'm going to take you to a safe place. But I need you to let me carry you out of here. You won't be able to walk in the corridor on your own. It's very dangerous. Do you understand?"  
  
And then the most amazing thing happened; the little boy turned to look down at the little girl, and it seemed as if they were talking without words. Quatre watched in amazement as the little boy nodded his head to the dead eyes of the small girl, then stone gray eyes were once again looking at him, and Quatre found himself too stunned to press the question again.  
  
Then the girl was sitting up, and the boy wrapped a protective arm around her. Together they stood, and then the boy looked to Quatre expectantly; the little girl seemed lost in her own world, almost not even paying attention to him at all.  
  
He nodded his head and lifted them both into his arms. The pain from his injured arm caused him to shudder, but he pushed it aside again; now wasn't the time. He took a step away from the corner, hoping he could get them safely back down the hallway and to the elevator shaft, when suddenly the boy started to struggle in his arms.  
  
Quatre winced but tried to calmly explain that he couldn't struggle. But the boy continued, and he could hardly contain his pain. And then in a very powerful voice for a five year old, he spoke. "The teddy bear, we can't leave without her teddy bear!"  
  
Quatre's eyes widened in shock, but he bent down low enough for the boy to grab the blanket and the teddy bear Quatre had not at first seen. He watched the boy pass the bear to the little girl before he handed her a corner of the blanket. Again his authoritative voice spoke, this time to the small girl in Quatre's arms. "Stay right there. Don't struggle, and hold onto Teddy." The little girl didn't nod or even acknowledge with word or eye contact that she understood; but she seemed to understand anyway, and he felt her tighten her hold about his neck.  
  
He swung around, two precious and peculiar children in his arms. Racing for the door, he told them to both hold their breaths; and when he felt them both comply, he jetted out into the hallway, and ran as fast as he could down towards the elevator. Twice on the way, another door exploded, but thankfully they were in the direction he'd come from. He held the children close to him tightly, afraid they might slip should he slacken his grip.  
  
At the elevator shaft, he leaned in as far as he could go and told them to take a deep breath; he felt relief when they both followed his instructions. Pulling back, he set them on the floor and knelt before them, ever mindful of the danger they were currently in.  
  
"We have to go down this shaft. I know it's scary, but I promise I'll take care of you both. You have to trust me. I know that's hard, and you're both frightened right now, but I promise I'll take you somewhere safe, where no one will hurt you anymore. I promise, but you have to do as I say now, alright? Can you do that?"  
  
Again he watched the boy look pointedly at the girl-who still barely acknowledged Quatre's presence, but did make eye contact with the boy. A silent communication again transpired between them, and Quatre had just enough time to realize it was happening before it was over. The boy looked at him and then nodded. "Take her first."  
  
Surprised, Quatre nodded his head and then turned back to the shaft, sliding in and then reaching for the little girl. He watched her turn nearly-but not quite-questioning eyes on the boy before she allowed herself to be caught by Quatre. Together they slid down the shaft, Quatre's hands burning at the friction caused by the metal cables. The girl tightened her grip, but didn't say anything, didn't even seem to know where she was or what was happening.  
  
Towards the bottom he suddenly felt his legs grabbed and supported by strong arms, and he felt Trowa's mind brush his own. Relief washed over him as Trowa helped him down and pulled him close.  
  
Quatre struggled in his grip. "Trowa, the boy-" A coughing fit overtook him, and he leaned over the small girl still clutched to his chest. He felt Trowa's indecision filter over the link, but there wasn't time. "TROWA, HURRY!" Again the coughing overtook his burning lungs, and he vaguely realized that he was probably in a great deal of trouble.  
  
Trowa moved quickly, pushing Quatre against a wall before jumping into the shaft and climbing the metal cables. Quatre watched him go as he clutched the little girl closer to him, frightened by her unresponsiveness, but willing to chalk it up to shock. He nuzzled her close as he continued to cough and gasp for breath.  
  
Sudden shouting sounded down the hallway, and Quatre did his best to call out to his friends, "Here-*cough*-we're here!" His voice was hoarse, and he knew he'd given the last of it when he'd yelled at Trowa.  
  
Duo's face suddenly appeared before him, and held an oxygen mask to his face, letting him breathe. After a few breaths, he shook his head and indicated that Duo should hold the mask for the little girl. To his left, he saw Trowa emerge from the shaft before passing the little boy to Heero and moving to kneel beside Quatre. The link flared, and Quatre sensed Trowa's concern. His lover had seen his arm and heard his coughing; he knew it wasn't good.  
  
"The upper levels are completely destroyed. We need to get these kids out of here." Duo's voice was loud, shouting over the sound of explosions overhead. Quatre nodded and with great difficulty, managed to half stand, half lean against Trowa, the little girl still clinging tightly to him. Duo tired to reach for her, but she saw his outstretched arms and pulled even tighter into Quatre. Shaking his head, Quatre allowed Trowa to maneuver them down the hallway and back towards their Angels.  
  
Soon, Duo was beside him, having taken the little boy into his arms so Heero could carry the computer equipment he'd used to hack into the mainframe. He watched in stunned fascination as the boy reached a hand over the space separating them and took the little girl's. He looked for all the world as if he'd failed her, and Quatre realized that was exactly the emotion he was receiving from the brown haired boy. Speaking softly so as not to alarm them, Quatre addressed stone gray eyes. "You did very well. You protected her until I got to you. You did a very good job of protecting her." His voice was still nothing but a whisper, but it was enough for the boy to hear. Stone eyes looked at him before turning back to look at the little girl.  
  
"My suit's this way. Which way's yours, Quatre?" Duo suddenly asked.  
  
He nodded in the opposite direction but felt Trowa nod above him.  
  
"Mine is also this way. I brought it in close to Quatre's. We'll go this way and meet you on the barge." All agreed, and they separated and moved away. Trowa pulled Quatre along, and for the most part all he could do was walk, hold the child and cough, his lungs burning with every breath.  
  
After what seemed like forever, they arrived at the hatch of his suit. Trowa helped him in and managed to situate the child so the safety harness would protect them both. Then placing a light kiss on his lips, he pulled out, and shut the hatch from the outside.  
  
Reaching around the girl, Quatre maneuvered the controls to watch Trowa sprint across the hangar and climb into his Angel. When the com unit beeped and Trowa's face appeared on the screen, Quatre moved his suit forward and towards the exit, Trowa covering him.  
  
Through the now quiet battle zone, Trowa watched for lingering enemies while Quatre fought to remain conscious and whispered reassuringly to the little girl who said nothing and still barely acknowledged his existence. Her eyes wandered around his cockpit, looking at the lights and flashing pictures; and when he talked, she would sometimes tip her head as if she were listening. But she said not a word or even appeared to really hear him; and carefully, he ran his hand through her pure white locks. The blackness was seeping around his vision and he used all of his strength to fight the controls; she needed him.  
  
As the barge approached, Quatre closed his eyes and felt the little girl take his hand. But it was too late. The pain and stress overtook his taxed system, and with a final mental warning to Trowa, he lost consciousness.  
  
* * *  
  
His throat burned. That was the first thing that jumped into his mind as he struggled to open his eyes. Bright lights assaulted him, and Quatre squinted against them. Something wasn't right. There was a loud beeping sound coming from his left and the sound of air rushing to his right. Shifting, he moved his head to see where he was.  
  
"Shhh, Quatre, you're safe now. You're in the infirmary on the barge."  
  
Trowa's face came into view, covering the harsh light and surrounding his face in an almost angelic aura. Quatre tried to sigh, but suddenly realized that he couldn't even take a deep breath; panic followed, and he struggled to sit up.  
  
"Quatre, calm down. It's ok." He felt reassurance through the link and desperately clung to it as his wide eyes met Trowa's. "There's a tube down your throat right now to help you breathe; there's a doctor on the way to remove it. Stay calm for me, Quatre."  
  
Gentle hands ran through his hair, and Quatre leaned into the touch, craving something to ground him again. He watched Trowa move to sit on the corner of the bed before reaching down and taking his right hand. A soft squeeze and then a return; Quatre closed his eyes and tried to relax.  
  
"Good, he's awake." Quatre opened his eyes to see what he assumed was a doctor. The man smiled down at him. "There's a tube in your throat right now. It's directly in your lungs helping you breathe. I know it's painful and hard to know what to do, but try not to fight it for a moment. We'll get it out in just a second, ok?" He winked before turning away, and Quatre tried to offer a weak smile around the tube taped to his mouth.  
  
Then Trowa was leaning in and whispering quietly, a soft smile on his face. "Quatre, stop flirting with the doctor." Humor bounced down the link and Quatre sent a returning mock pout. Trowa laughed.  
  
"Ok, Quatre, I want you too look at Trowa; and when I tell you, I want you to give me a big cough, ok? It's going to hurt, and you'll gag, but just keep coughing and looking at Trowa, got it?" He nodded his head weakly and then looked to Trowa.  
  
Smiling at him, Trowa squeezed his hand. "When this is over with, I promise to kiss you good morning."  
  
Quatre's eyes danced with merriment, and then the doctor was telling him to cough, and he felt the tube yanked hard from his body. Gagging, he doubled over, coughing and trying not to be sick. He felt cool hands caress his face, and the link flared with concern and love.  
  
When the coughing and gagging were brought under control, Quatre leaned back with Trowa's help and offered a weak smile. He tried his voice, but after the initial pain wore off, he closed his eyes and resigned himself to just taking a short nap.  
  
Gentle lips brushed his own, and he returned the pressure lightly, heeding his pain.  
  
"Good morning, Quatre." He smiled in return.  
  
Suddenly, he remembered-remembered a small body clinging to him, white hair, and stone gray eyes. He couldn't rest, couldn't afford to; the children needed him. He struggled, trying desperately to path to Trowa what he needed. But strong hands pushed him back onto the bed, and Trowa's stern voice broached no argument.  
  
"Quatre, stay still!" Then he seemed to understand and again returned to running his cool hands over Quatre's flushed cheeks. "The children are fine. We managed to tow your Angel in without a problem." Trowa paused, a distant look crossing his face. "The girl clung to you, and no matter how hard we tried, we couldn't get her to even acknowledge that we were there. Duo had the same problem with the little boy. Heero tried to take him from him, and the poor thing started screaming. Duo had to carry him into the med. bay. We literally loaded the girl onto the stretcher with you just to get her here."  
  
There was a lost look in Trowa's eyes for a moment and Quatre felt suddenly worried at Trowa's many pauses. When his lover continued, it was with a tone of amazement, awe, and slight fear.  
  
"When the children saw each other, it was crazy. The boy broke away from Duo and grabbed a hold of the girl's hand and wouldn't let go. He kept screaming for us to stay away from them, and at the same time, kept backing up towards the cart you were on." Terrified for the children's sake, Quatre started to struggle, but Trowa shook his head and gently used his hands to tell him to wait. "Wufei finally realized that the children were huddling by your bedside, so we moved away; and then the boy just dropped to the floor, taking the girl with him. She put her head in his lap, and then seemed to fall asleep.  
  
"It was.disconcerting. The boy was rough and gentle with the girl at the same time. They interacted.strangely together." He watched as Trowa ran a hand over his face, and Quatre grew even more worried as he realized that Trowa had not yet shaved. His lover was neurotic about that detail of his life.  
  
"The med. team was concerned about shock. But after examining the little boy-to many threats by the child-they finally decided to sedate him. They did the same for the girl. They've been sleeping ever since." That statement should have caused Quatre some relief, but the haggard expression in Trowa's eyes told of a bit more struggle than his partner was divulging.  
  
"Heero's searching the data files he managed to get, looking for something on them, but he got quite a bit of stuff, and he doesn't know where to start-"  
  
Quatre was shaking his head, trying to speak, but only managing to cough and gag again. "Quatre, don't-" But more violent shaking of his head had Trowa silent and looking worriedly at him.  
  
Knowing suddenly what he needed, Quatre took his hand from Trowa's and mimicked a pen motion. Trowa instantly understood and began looking for something to write with. After a few moments, he found both pen and paper and worked the pen into Quatre's hand, settling the pad on his chest.  
  
Wincing, Quatre lifted the pen to the paper and wrote four letters with shaky penmanship. "Z.E.R.O." His hand dropped with exhaustion after that.  
  
Eyes huge, Trowa turned questioningly to him, but Quatre only shook his head and pointed again to the paper. He had to get Trowa to understand that 'ZERO' was the file he'd find all the information about the children in; he just knew it.  
  
But the word had a history with Trowa, and Quatre could see that he wasn't going to be able to understand. Summoning his will, he forced past his burned throat one word. "Data."  
  
He saw Trowa's eyes shine with tentative understanding.  
  
"Quatre, are you saying the information on the children is in a file marked ZERO?" He nodded his head weakly; he was getting very, very tired, and he hurt, too. "I understand, Quatre. I'll tell Heero right away." Trowa seemed to notice his droopy eyes then. "That's the morphine, try not to fight it. Just rest now, Quatre. They don't anticipate the children to awaken for some time. Just rest."  
  
Darkness filtered around him, and Quatre allowed it to swallow him completely, blanketing him in the peace of mind that at least the children were safe. 


	2. Chapter 2

* * *  
  
"Heero, what the hell is all that?!"  
  
The computer screen flashed brightly as one line after another of information opened up under the heading "ZERO."  
  
"I don't know."  
  
"Maxwell, sit down. No one can see the screen with your fat head in the way!"  
  
"Wufei, shut up!"  
  
"You shut up!"  
  
"Both of you shut up!!!"  
  
Turning his trademark glare on them both, Heero returned to his computer monitor. This couldn't be right. Half of this information was medical in nature. He saw literally thousands of files that were designated med. Files, and it seemed each one had its own password.  
  
"Damnit."  
  
"What's wrong?"  
  
"Didn't he tell you to shut up?"  
  
"Wufei, I'm gonna tie this braid around your throat and send Sally a 'Dear John' letter in your name if you don't let me talk in peace, got it?!"  
  
Heero smirked as Wufei snorted and turned away from the two situated by the computer. Duo was a pain in the ass sometimes, but when it came to Heero, he got even worse.  
  
"Heero?"  
  
Turning in his chair, he looked to his partner both in crime and in life. Neither one had slept in the last twelve hours, and it showed in the drooping bangs and falling sections of Duo's braid. Lightly, Heero brushed the bangs from his eyes and watched contentedly as Duo leaned into his touch.  
  
"The files are half medical. I don't know how to read them. We'll have to take them back to the base. They're all password coded-each and every one. Whoever did this didn't want anyone getting into these files."  
  
"Did you say medical files?" Heero broke his gaze from Duo's violet eyes and nodded to Wufei. "Are they something Sally could read?"  
  
He nodded. "They seem to be standard medical files. I just don't have the medical training to know what's in them. Someone will need to crack the codes though; like I said, each one's different."  
  
Duo shifted into his lap and swiveled the chair to look more closely at the files.  
  
"Heero, not all of these are med. Files. What are the rest?"  
  
Pulling Duo close, Heero nestled his chin on Duo's shoulder. It wasn't good.  
  
"Their combat files."  
  
"Combat files?"  
  
"Yes, from the ZERO system."  
  
"What do you mean, from the ZERO? I thought the only copy was in the Wing and Epyon, and both of those got blown up a long time ago."  
  
Heero shook his head. "There were two more copies. One was loaded into Quatre's Gundam during the battle he had with Dorothy. The other was the one Dorothy used to battle him with. Since all of our copies were destroyed, the only other possibility is that her copy survived."  
  
"But if those are the combat files, that means-"  
  
"It means they know exactly how each of us fights. If what Dorothy said is true, and these children really are weapons.then they could have been created to kill us."  
  
Duo shivered in his arms, and he wrapped them more securely around his partner. He didn't know what was going on, and the idea that these terrorists-that barely registered with Preventer Headquarters as being a priority at all-could have the ZERO combat files, had him very nervous, and Heero Yuy hated to be nervous.  
  
* * *  
  
Gently he brushed his hand along her small face. She was so tiny and far too thin. Her long curly hair was white with a hint of what would have been sunshine if not for the dull dead quality of it. Both the children were dirty-hair and bodies that looked as if they hadn't been washed in weeks. Quatre cringed, knowing from personal experienced what it felt like to be locked up and have no access to the baser comforts of a bathroom.  
  
The little boy wasn't much better. Like the girl he was dirty, but he also had dark bruises that ran across his body that Quatre had not seen in the darkness of the room he'd rescued him from. Quatre couldn't help but wonder at the suffering he'd been through. The girl looked untouched, but the boy was riddled with healing bruises and scabs from some unknown source. Softly, he ran his hands over his little face that seemed, even in sleep, to remain hard and cold.  
  
He heard the door open behind him and prepared for the lecture he knew he was going to receive.  
  
"Quatre! What are you doing out of bed?" Duo was beside him in an instant, and with a firm grip, led him back towards the bed. A quick shake of his head gave his friend pause before settling on a compromise and maneuvering him into a chair by the children's bed.  
  
Looking up, he saw Heero and Wufei drag three more chairs over before sitting in them; they both looked worried.  
  
He'd fallen asleep about seven hours ago, and his throat and arm still hurt, but another round of morphine-in a lesser dose-had him at least able to move around even if he wasn't suppose to. His dreams had been silent, and he wasn't sure if it was due to his drug-induced state or the fact that the children finally thought they were safe.  
  
Trowa, he knew, was down in the hangar, readying a transport to take them back to Earth. Until a few minutes ago, he hadn't known where the other pilots were, but now that they were here, he hoped to have a few of his questions answered.  
  
"Duo-" he gasped, biting back the scream of pain and turning it into a cough. His throat was still raw; he'd been told that the heat from the smoke had actually blistered the inside. He didn't care; all that mattered were the children.  
  
He felt a light brush against the link and knew Trowa was checking up on the pain he'd sensed. He smiled faintly when he sensed comfort and anticipation through the link; Trowa was coming to see him.  
  
Still coughing a little he offered a weak nod to Duo and again motioned with his hands for pen and paper. Wufei got the suggestion and brought it to him immediately. Duo just smiled sheepishly. "I never was good at charades." Quatre just shook his head.  
  
Quickly, and with his good hand, he scribbled down a message and handed it to Heero, who quickly read it.  
  
"Yes, the file name worked. But every single file inside is individually coded. It's going to take a while until we can get at the information. I'm going to take it back with me to the base and let the tec.'s figure it out. Once they get their hands on it, we should have the information in a few days."  
  
Quatre nodded, happy with the answer. He looked back to Duo and gestured to the children lying quietly asleep.  
  
"Oh they're fine-just taking naps like good little kids. The doctors are worried about the boy's bruises, but under the circumstances it seems only logical that he'd be a little banged up. Besides that, they've done a surface scan and determined that besides being incredible dirty, and kinda smelly, they're fine. But I'm thinking bath time when we get back."  
  
"Maxwell, show some consideration!"  
  
"Have you smelled that kid? He reeks!"  
  
Quatre tried to laugh, but it just hurt too much. Instead he watched Wufei and Duo fight it out while Heero tried to separate them. He couldn't help the raspy laugh that did escape his lips as Trowa walked through the door, just as Wufei managed to push Duo against it; effectively knocking both him and Duo over and into the hallway.  
  
His throat had him coughing again, this time accompanied by dry heaves as he couldn't stop. Cool hands brushed against his heated skin, and he leaned into the touch.  
  
"It's alright, Quatre, try to breathe normally. Here, drink this," a glass of water was lifted to his lips and he drank greedily from it when his coughing subsided for a moment. The liquid burned its way down but left a measure of relief in its wake, and Quatre was grateful. "That's it, Quatre, try and relax."  
  
Nodding his head that he'd had enough, he tried to clear his throat as best he could before looking at Trowa and trying to smile.  
  
"Aren't you suppose to be in bed?"  
  
Quatre winced and offered Trowa a sheepish smile.  
  
"Nope, not going to work. Let's get you back in bed." Strong arms helped him up, and together they moved towards the soft bed Quatre had abandoned in his search for the sleeping children.  
  
When he was tucked in, Trowa leaned down and softly kissed him. "Sleep one more time for me, Quatre. When you wake up we should be on base, alright?" Quatre tried to nod, but a slight prick in his arm had him looking at a nurse he hadn't seen enter. He closed his eyes as a wave of drowsiness washed over him, Trowa's voice lulling him to sleep.  
  
"It'll be alright, Quatre. The children are going to be fine; we'll get them home. Just rest."  
  
Again he closed his eyes, and again he felt peace knowing that soon they'd be home, and he could finally care for the children.  
  
* * *  
  
Trowa watched his lover slip into sleep and then turned to address his friends.  
  
"Did he ask about the files?"  
  
Heero nodded. "I just told him that I'd found them, and they were encoded. He didn't seem surprised."  
  
"Then he doesn't know about the ZERO combat data yet?"  
  
"Not yet."  
  
"Good. He doesn't need to worry about that right now." He knew he sounded commanding but reminded himself that the last thing Quatre needed right now was to be revisited by the ZERO. His lover had been through so much over the last two months-over the last five years really-and he couldn't see the value in worrying him when they themselves had no answers.  
  
"We are going to tell him though, right?" Duo looked at him, half-worried that he'd say "No".  
  
"Yes, but not now. Quatre's in a lot of pain due to his injuries, not to mention his concern about the children. Let's just get them all home and then worry about the rest when we've had a good look at it." They nodded at his logic, and he silently asked Quatre to forgive him for withholding information.  
  
"How long until we can leave?" Wufei stood by the door, arms crossed. Space wasn't his favorite place, especially since Sally was still on Earth.  
  
Trowa offered him a small smile. "They're loading the Angels onto a transport now. I came to get Quatre and the children loaded on as well. The doctors have to administer one more round of tranquilizers for the children, and then we'll be ready. An hour tops."  
  
Wufei and the others nodded.  
  
"I have to get back to the meeting room and copy the files for Zechs. I'll meet you at the launch pad in an hour."  
  
"I'll go with you, Heero. While you're cleaning up the computer stuff, I'll get everyone's things from the barracks; we wouldn't want to be messy guests, now would we?" Smiling to himself, Duo and Heero left the med. lab.  
  
"I'll tell Zechs about our departure. Are you going to be able to get them onto the transport?" Wufei looked on in concern as Trowa turned to look at both his lover and the two sleeping children.  
  
"It shouldn't be too difficult. They're going to put them into medical transport pods for the trip; that way their vitals can be monitored. The pods aren't hard to move. I'll manage."  
  
Wufei nodded and then turned to the door. "Let me know if you need any help." And then he was gone, leaving Trowa to turn back to Quatre.  
  
Trowa hadn't wanted Quatre to even come on this mission, but he'd quickly figured out that there would be absolutely no stopping his beloved. These children had become an intricate part in Quatre's life, and Trowa found himself worrying about his lover more and more.  
  
It seemed only logical to him that Quatre could easily confuse these children with his own hurt at not being allowed to have ones of his own. He knew the problem with the will often had Quatre wondering if he'd ever be able to have children with a clear conscience. He was fearful that his partner would push too hard and too fast with his own healing, trying to help these two children.  
  
Quatre had only just recently conquered some of his more destructive demons, but he still went to sessions with Corinne everyday, trying to work through the others. He knew Quatre wasn't in danger of suicide anymore, but he also knew that he tended to over-extend himself while helping others, and he couldn't allow that to happen this time.  
  
He'd expressed his concerns to Corinne before they'd left, but she'd seemed to think that after his joyous reunion with his niece Securra, Quatre was actually in better shape then ever before. She'd sympathized with his concern but had told him that at this point, Quatre seemed able to handle the mission.  
  
That, however, was before Quatre had stupidly charged the base without sufficient back up and gotten hurt. Still fresh in his mind, the need to surround Quatre with a measure of control was still on the surface of his thoughts. His love usually called him the reckless one, but this mission had Quatre primed for the role.  
  
Shaking himself from his thoughts, Trowa brushed a kiss over Quatre's forehead. Then, turning, he looked to the bed the two children were lying in and froze, stunned. A pair of impossibly clear green eyes looked at him, holding him in place with their intensity. The doctors had placed her at four years old, but her eyes seemed to hold infinite amounts of knowledge-far too much for a four year old girl.  
  
Blinking his eyes, he broke the spell she had over him before taking a very slow and steady step towards her; she didn't react. Not wanting to scare her, Trowa moved cautiously, opening his hands to show they were empty. He watched her eyes drift from his hands back to his face; she was watching him closely without seeming to-like a panther and its prey.  
  
Carefully, he knelt down before her bed, letting his own body become lower than hers; using an old lion trick to show that he was the submissive one. He dropped his eyes before looking back into her face.  
  
The small thing hadn't moved a single muscle-only blinked her eyes, not daring to move or wanting to. Trowa found himself confused by her. It was as if she were in another world but occasionally stepped back into this one when something caught her attention. He decided to try where the others had not succeeded-he tried speaking to her.  
  
Softly, "My name is Trowa. I know you're scared right now, but you don't have to be. The others and myself are going to take care of you. You're going to be alright."  
  
Suddenly he saw her shift her eyes from him to behind him, and he turned following her gaze to Quatre's sleeping form. Remembering that the girl had not wanted to leave Quatre's side, he turned back and addressed her again.  
  
"That's Quatre. He's the one who saved you from that awful room." Her eyes were back on him, focused this time, listening to his voice if not his words. "He was hurt when he saved you, but the doctors are taking care of him, just like they're taking care of you and your friend." He lifted his hand slowly, indicating the boy beside her. "Quatre's going to be ok, and so are the two of you. The doctors are going to come in a moment and give you something to help you sleep. When you wake up, Quatre should be awake as well, and we'll try to explain things a little better for you then. Don't worry, you're going to be just fine."  
  
Carefully, he lifted his hand again, and slowly, so she could watch his movements, brought a finger to lightly caress her cheek. She closed her eyes at the contact, but made no move to either lean in or back away from the touch. Trowa took it as a neutral sign.  
  
He heard the door open and saw one of the doctors step inside, followed by a nurse. The sound of shifting sheets caught his attention, and he turned back around to see that the little girl had turned away from him and was instead curled into the boy beside her. He watched in stunned fascination as the boy seemed to sense her presence and wrap a protective arm around her. It was such an adult act, but here it was being played out by a five and four year old.  
  
Earlier when the boy had pulled the girl painfully behind him screaming at the others to leave them alone, Trowa had been certain that he was just in a panic, scared by so many people and new situations. But now as he looked at him, fully asleep, Trowa had to wonder whether it was panic or something far less normal.  
  
"Mr. Barton, we're prepared to move Mr. Winner to the shuttle now." Trowa nodded and then moved to his lover's bedside.  
  
Turning, he addressed the doctor. "The little girl is awake. Be gentle with her. She seems almost afraid." Nodding, the doctor retrieved a syringe and moved slowly towards the children's bed. He watched him lift an unresponsive hand and gently maneuver the tip of the needle into her arm. There was no flinch, no child-like cry of pain, just silence.  
  
"Alright, Mr. Barton, we've given Mr. Winner the last round of sedatives and hooked up the last of the monitors." The nurse reached up and pulled the top of the medical transport pod down and over Quatre's body; the faint click and hiss of the seal letting him know the pod was functional.  
  
He nodded his head and then looked over to the children. "I'll be back for them in a moment. Please have them ready as well." At her nod, he gripped the edge of the pod and pulled it from the room. He'd get Quatre's pod situated and then return for the other two. Then they'd go home and try to unravel the secrets of two very small, very hurt children.  
  
* * *  
  
Frustration wasn't even the right word, he was downright pissed. Struggling to open his eyes, he realized right away that he was drugged, the hazy feeling around his thoughts and senses alerting him to the obvious. He'd been at this for what seemed like forever, desperately trying to push the tranquilizers away so he could open his eyes; but he knew with heavy medication like he was on, it could have been seconds or hours.  
  
He pushed against the darkness, searching for the link but finding nothing. Panic laced through him then, but his mind quieted it; Trowa couldn't reach him through the morphine.it was ok. But still he pressed forward, searching for a way out of his quiet and dark mind.  
  
Around him, he could hear soft sounds, but they seemed to fly by or be too slow to understand. Nothing was helping, and Quatre was slowly working himself into another panic. He wanted out, and he wanted out now!  
  
For a second he paused, recognizing a word from the jumble of sounds around him, but when the word didn't come again he continued his struggles. Then again the word jumped out, but he couldn't hear it, couldn't recognize it completely. He could hear his heartbeat all around him, and as the word continued to hover just out of his reach, he felt the vibrations of his heart drum faster.  
  
Again and again, over and over, the beating of his heart continued to grow louder and stronger. He thought he heard the sound of a machine beeping, but he was too worried about the haziness, the sound of his heart, and the fact that he wanted to know what that damn word was. He continued to struggle.  
  
"..qu.e.tr.e.tr.qua."  
  
Then it dawned on him, someone was calling his name; at least that's what he thought it was. A sudden fear gripped him and it took him a moment to realize the voice that called him was not that of a child's. The children weren't calling for him. They were alright; Trowa had said he'd take care of them.  
  
Deciding to let Trowa worry about the children for a moment, Quatre concentrated on pushing past the drugs and stepping into the real world.  
  
"Quatre!"  
  
A bright light flashed before him and he was opening his eyes. He saw Trowa leaning over him, his hands pressing him firmly into the mattress of the hospital bed. Duo and Heero were by his legs, and Sally was on the other side of Trowa, equally trying to hold him down. What was going on????  
  
Slumping back, he released all the tension in his muscles and felt a rolling pain from his arm. He winced and bit back a cry.  
  
The others let go of him, slowly as if afraid he'd try something. Quatre opened his eyes and turned towards Trowa, begging to understand what was going on.  
  
"Quatre, can you hear me?"  
  
Of course he could hear him, what kind of question was that? He nodded his head, remembering what had happened the last time he'd used his voice.  
  
"You were fighting the drugs. They gave you too much on the barge. You couldn't wake up. Do you remember?" Trowa's voice was soft, concern now fluttered through the link.  
  
He nodded again, trying to force the images of darkness from his mind.  
  
"Jeez, Quatre! Next time we're not taking you any place!" Duo had moved up next to Trowa and offered him a huge smile.  
  
Quatre closed his eyes and smiled back. He was out, thank Allah.  
  
"Quatre, open your eyes for a minute. I need to check something." He did as Sally's voice instructed. Opening his eyes to a blinding flashlight being stuck right into them, he winced. "Didn't I tell you to open your eyes? Good, now follow the light.that's right.ok, now left.up..up..good. Ok, now open wide and say 'awwwwww'..good, good.great! Ok, blisters have gone down, but no tonsil hockey, you're still on the injured list." She winked at him, and Quatre had the decency to blush.  
  
Trowa touched his nose and Quatre turned back to look at him. "Too bad. Guess we'll have to think up something else, hm?" Quatre tried to bury his head in the pillow.  
  
Then Sally was vying for his attention again. "One more thing, Quatre. Does it hurt to breathe?" He shook his head. "Good, ok, I want you to repeat after me, we're going to test your vocal range and make sure there isn't any damage to your voice box. Say "aaaaaaa".ok, 'bbbbbb'.good, 'cccccccc'-yeah, that one usually hurts. I'm sorry, Trowa, stop looking at me like I'm your next target. I need to make sure he's ok. Now, Quatre let's continue, 'dddddddd'."  
  
Through the alphabet they went, sounding every letter, until they reached the end. "Ok, now let's hear you try a simple sentence, ok?" He nodded. "Alright, repeat after me-'My name is Quatre.'"  
  
His voice was raspy as if he had a terrible case of laryngitis. "My name is Quatre."  
  
"Good, ok-'Trowa, is my friend."  
  
He smiled looking at Trowa. "Trowa is my friend."  
  
"Ok, that sounded ok. A little trouble with the 'w', but that's again to be expected. Let's try it again this time-'Wufei, is my friend.'"  
  
"He can't say that! Wufei isn't his friend!"  
  
"Duo no baka!"  
  
"But Heero-*smack*-Hey! What was that for?!"  
  
"Just shut up."  
  
"Fine-see if you get any tonight."  
  
Quatre couldn't help the laugh and was thankful when it only hurt a lot.  
  
"Quatre?" Sally was waiting for him.  
  
"Wufei is my friend."  
  
Sally smiled.  
  
"Oh, wait, I got one!" Duo's wildly frantic voice called attention to him, and Quatre looked at his best friend with a mixture of humor and dread. "Ok, Quatre, repeat after me-'Trowa is a sex god, and I will humbly worship him.' Now you try!"  
  
Quatre shook his head and laughed. Leave it to Duo. But then Trowa was looking at him, a mock pout on his lips, and Quatre's eyes widened when he realized what was coming.  
  
"You don't think I'm a sex god, Quatre?"  
  
Again he was shaking his head and laughing, not truly believing that Trowa had actually asked that question. It was times like these that Quatre really saw the changes in their relationship.  
  
Knowing his voice was raspy and therefore much deeper, Quatre batted his eyes at Trowa. "You'll always be my sex god, Trowa." He laughed as Duo whooped it up, and Trowa just ran a light hand over his face, giving him a wink.  
  
"Alright, no more of that! He's supposed to be resting! Duo, Heero, don't you have somewhere else to be? I have to attend to my patient."  
  
Taking the out, Heero grabbed Duo's arm and pulled him from the room, smiling and trying not to laugh the whole way. Sally shook her head and then turned her attention back to him.  
  
"How bad's the pain?"  
  
He shook his head, indicating that it was fine. It was a lie, but hopefully this way he wouldn't have to take any more medication.  
  
But Sally wasn't born yesterday, and the completely disbelieving look she gave him let him know in no uncertain terms that she knew he was lying. "Ok, for real this time."  
  
Knowing he was caught, he lifted his uninjured hand and separated his index finger and thumb about a half an inch.  
  
"Uh..." She drew the sound out, letting him know again that he'd been caught.  
  
Trowa's hand suddenly took his, and he turned his head slowly, knowing Trowa would not be happy that he was lying about the pain. He was right.  
  
Stern eyes glared down at him, and Quatre felt like a reprimanded child. Then he remembered the children.  
  
Taking his hand from Trowa's, he addressed his lover. "The children?" Again his voice was scratchy, and he winced at the pain from too much talking.  
  
But Trowa just shook his head. "How much does it hurt, really?"  
  
He managed to look annoyed before he decided it would just be faster to tell the truth and find out about the children. Knowing he was going to be in a lot of trouble, he answered the question with his eyes closed.  
  
"A lot."  
  
"Quatre! Why didn't you say something sooner-like before I had you perform the alphabet in twenty minutes or less?! You ridiculous-never mind! What hurts more, your arm or your throat?"  
  
"Throat."  
  
"And exactly how much does your arm hurt?"  
  
He looked at her sheepishly. "A lot."  
  
"Good God-no wonder you all drive Wufei mad!!" Turning around, Sally reached for a vial of clear liquid and plunged a syringe into the rubber top. Quatre was protesting in a second.  
  
"No, Sally, please!"  
  
"Quatre!"  
  
"I-I don't-want anymore."  
  
Cool hands again drifted to his face, and Trowa gently tugged until he was looking at him again.  
  
"I thought you wanted to hear about the children?"  
  
Nodding his head he looked to his partner expectantly, happy that the problem of a drug induced stupor was over.  
  
"They're fine and still sleeping. The girl woke up before we got you all onto the transport, but I spoke to her for a little while and she seemed.alright. The boy has not yet awoken. Heero sent the data files to the tech.'s, and they're currently decoding each file. Last time I heard they were about ten percent through. Beyond that, we don't know anything else. Satisfied?"  
  
Quatre closed his eyes, relief washing through him. The kids were still alright. A sudden prick on his injured arm had his eyes wide and staring at the syringe slowly emptying its contents into his arm. He looked up at Sally, a stunned expression on his face. She'd hit him with another dose of morphine!  
  
"Just relax, Quatre. This isn't too much. You'll be fine. Actually, you're just going to float for a while." Her voice was calm. He wasn't.  
  
He swung his head around to look at Trowa, sending accusations through the link. He watched Trowa visibly flinch. "You're going to be ok, Quatre. I'm going to stay right here. Don't worry."  
  
And then the dizziness was washing over him again, and he was fighting to stay afloat.  
  
"Don't fight it, Quatre."  
  
Oh, he hated this part! 


	3. Chapter 3

The conference room was the same as always-huge. The circular table held ten chairs, which were now being occupied by delegates from all the departments of the Preventers. On the main wall, a large vid-screen hummed, promising the telling of information they'd been seeking.  
  
Gently, Trowa helped Quatre to his seat. He'd been released from Sally's manic care less than an hour ago and after a quick shower he was now with the others, prepared to hear the recovered date about the two still sleeping children. They'd had Corinne take a look at the children, but she hadn't been able to tell anything. They seemed impervious to scans.  
  
Quatre was worried as well; he'd taken to seeing the children everyday-for the last three days-and the way they slept bothered him. Since the day they'd arrived, they'd lain in each other's arms sleeping tightly together, not allowing separation.  
  
The girl had awoken once, but upon finding that she'd been put into another bed, she climbed out and went to the boy's. Of them both, the little boy seemed the most hurt. He'd yet to awaken and didn't react to anything done to his body at all. He seemed almost comatose, but Sally couldn't figure out why. The strange thing was, if the little girl shifted away from him in sleep, he would pull her back into him. The doctors-especially Sally- were completely baffled. Hopefully today's meeting would change all that.  
  
"Would you like something to drink?" Trowa looked down at Quatre from his standing position over him.  
  
His stay in the hospital had been short but tiring. He remembered why he hated them so much. His throat had almost completely healed, and so had his arm. His left arm was wrapped in nearly two inches of gauze, but that was only a safety precaution; it was painful, but not debilitating.  
  
"Yes, please."  
  
Trowa smiled and moved quietly to retrieve the desired liquid. Trowa had been amazing-staying with him throughout the long nights in the infirmary. Quatre had tried to kick him out more than once, but he'd adamantly refused. They finally decided on a compromise. Trowa stayed, and Quatre shared the bed; it was a tight fit, but they didn't mind.  
  
The door opened and Heero and Duo walked in, arms linked. Motioning for Heero to save him a seat, Duo came over and sat on the table in front of him.  
  
"Hey, Quatre, heard you got sprung. How ya feelin'?"  
  
He offered a smile. "I'm good-can't really complain. How about you?"  
  
Duo looked over at his partner and then back at Quatre. A purely satisfied smile came over his face. "Oh, I don't think I can complain either." He winked at him. "He's been super attentive and cuddly since we got back from that mission. Sorry to say it, but your getting hurt has totally improved my after glow time." They laughed, drawing the attention of the other people in the room-especially the ones they didn't know very well; then they blushed.  
  
"Duo," Heero called across the table, giving his benevolent partner a glare. "Get over here and sit down."  
  
Mimicking a ball and chain, Duo stood and moved over to his partner, disregarding the chair for Heero's lap.  
  
Quatre laughed again, but a sudden coughing fit caught him, and he doubled over in pain. Trowa was by his side in a moment, helping him with the glass of water. Once the coughing had stopped, Trowa settled him back into his chair and chided softly. "No more laughing. It's bad for you." Quatre just smiled.  
  
During his coughing fit, Sally and Wufei had walked in. They were all now present and accounted for, and Lady Une began the meeting.  
  
"As you know, we sent the data retrieved by Heero down to be decoded. Those files have now been completely opened, and we are beginning to sort through the information. Seventy percent of the files are medical in nature, and those Sally and her medical team will have to go over. However, we did retrieve some basic information about the children, and I wanted to pass that along to you." She made eye contact with Quatre and offered a weak smile.  
  
"In addition, I wanted to let you all know that the Tragona faction is now in custody, and they are beginning interrogations; however, it doesn't appear that any of the people that worked on the 'NEO' project were apprehended. Unfortunately, for right now, they've gotten away."  
  
Quatre felt his blood boil at the thought that those cruel and dangerous people were, right this very second, free. Trowa took his hand and gave it a soft squeeze. He turned to his partner and nodded, too upset to even smile.  
  
"Ok, let's begin." Lady Une pressed a button on her control panel and the large view screen behind her jumped to life. A picture of the little boy came up on the screen, he wasn't smiling. "We have basic tube information on him, and, yes, I said tube. He's a genetic. We know he was born on November 8, 195 A.C. which makes him five years old. The gestation time for a tube being half that of a normal pregnancy, we can ascertain that he was conceived sometime in July of 195. From what we've been able to glean from the information, he has no name-"  
  
"No name?!" Duo's outrage was clear to everyone. "I'm an orphan, but at least I had a name!" Still perched on Heero's lap, the quiet man pulled his partner tighter into him, hugging him close to dispel past memories.  
  
"No name, but we do know his code name-Shinigami."  
  
"NO WAY!" Duo was on his feet in an instant, and so was Quatre.  
  
"That can't be possible-to give a child no name but call him Death! What were they thinking?" Quatre's voice was panicked; he hated to think that this child could have been so blatantly abused.  
  
But Lady Une remained calm. She'd known long in advance they wouldn't like that part or any of the other parts for that matter. Motioning with her hands, she got the two men to sit down quietly, this time with Duo in his regular seat.  
  
"I understand your feelings, all of you, but believe me when I tell you, I'm not finished yet." They gulped. This wasn't at all good news. "Besides the boy's name, we also know a few more interesting facts about him. His height and weight are below normal for a child his age. Sally estimates that he's roughly three inches shorter than he should be and over fifteen pounds too light. But considering the fact that he's had every single bone in his body broken at least twice, it's easy to understand."  
  
"Every single.twice?" Duo's voice was low, attesting to his shock and the shock of those around him. "How can that be? He's only five years old- just!"  
  
Lady Une shook her head. "The only thing we can think of is the beatings Quatre's seen in his dreams. However, there's more. The boy's body has healed each break almost perfectly; by that I mean minimal scar tissue. We don't have a clue as to how that was accomplished. For a boy that young, he would have had major internal and structural damage." She nodded her head to Sally, who nodded back in agreement.  
  
Quatre's voice was like Duo's-small with shock. "So he's been beaten for a very long time then-maybe his whole life. But why? What's the point? If they were to beat him, how could they-what was the point?!" He knew he wasn't making any sense, and his throat hurt from all the talking; but he couldn't stand it-that the little boy was forced to endure torture after endless torture. Quatre felt sick.  
  
"Quatre's right. There would be no point in beating a child to that degree; it would only damage the body beyond repair-not to mention crippling him or even cause death. Why would they go to all that trouble just to beat and possibly kill him? It doesn't make sense." Heero's voice was tight. He felt the rage just like the rest of them; he'd seen the children-touched the little boy's hand.  
  
"At this point we still don't know, but the data teams are working on it as we speak. Isn't that right Col. Hade?"  
  
The portly man nodded in agreement. "I've got them working round the clock, Sir. We're getting the information processed as fast as we can." Heero nodded.  
  
"What else do we know about him?" Wufei had been quiet throughout the meeting so far, but the stall in information had him wanting to get back to what they didn't know. The other pilots nodded in agreement.  
  
"Not that much else about the boy. He's been asleep since the moment he arrived, and Sally seems to think his body is resting, allowing itself to heal. Her team has discovered that almost all of his bruises have healed, and the rest are well on their way. We do know from your observations that the boy is very protective of the girl. At this point we're not sure why. It could be they've only had each other or even something else-we're just not sure right now."  
  
She paused and then hit another button on her control screen, bringing up a picture of the little girl, her green eyes once again dead, and her hair unnaturally white and limp.  
  
"Again we have barely any solid information on her. Her tube date is March 2, 196, which means she was conceived sometime in December, making her four years old. As you can see from her picture, and no doubt you've all gone to see her, she has pure white hair. However, her tube description has her as having brown hair at birth. Sally has informed me that mass trauma can result in the loss of pigmentation; however, unlike the boy, we've found absolutely no physical damage to her body. She seems uninjured in any way, like a normal child-except she isn't. Her height and weight are far below average for a four-year-old; she's currently just over three feet, and her weight is only twenty-eight pounds. We've found signs of malnutrition in both children, but it was especially bad in the girl.  
  
"We've managed to pull a code name in for her as well; and quiet frankly, I'm a little nervous about it, especially after hearing Quatre's report on the children's seeming communication without words. Her name is Killashandra. Broken down and translated, it roughly means 'Killer of the mind." If you were looking for an empath, I think we just found her."  
  
"But that can't be. I'm positive it was the little boy I saw in my dreams. I never even saw the girl until that final one." The little boy had been in all of Quatre's dreams. The boy had to be the empathic one.  
  
Corinne, who had been sitting quietly for some time, now spoke up. "Quatre, could it be possible that during the dreams you were actually in the body of the little girl? That perhaps it was she who was looking at the little boy, and that's why you saw him?"  
  
Closing his eyes for a moment, he tried to relive the last few dreams he'd had. "Normally I'd say yes-as if this was normal-but I felt the boy's pain, not the girl's. Every blow, I felt it." Trowa's hand came to his shoulder and he covered it with his own. "I've never felt the girl's emotions, even when she was with me, I couldn't sense anything-only from the boy-only him."  
  
Lady Une nodded. "Nothing's been proven yet. We still have to go over the rest of the information first. A few more things about the girl-she doesn't talk. We've found logs from the scientists that say Shinigami was late to talk-almost two, but that Killashandra has yet to speak a single word. The logs write it as being a strange symptom of the 'Change'."  
  
"Change?" Trowa's voice was soft. Quatre knew he's struck up a sort of bond with the girl. Trowa said her blond curly hair reminded him of a girl he once knew.  
  
"We don't know any more than that. Actually the log ended right there, with absolutely no explanation. This leads us to believe that the scientists knew what they were talking about.  
  
"One more thing-Sally has done some tests and completely ruled out the possibility that the girl is in any way mentally handicapped. I know Trowa said she seemed off in her own world, but so far that isn't due to something like Autism or the like; again at this point we don't know.  
  
"Alright, you now know all that we do about the children. And until Sally and her team get a chance to go over the medical files, we'll just have to bide our time."  
  
"I'll have my team working round the clock just like the other departments. We'll find out what's going on real soon." Sally nodded her head towards Quatre-her silent promise to do her best.  
  
"Good. As far as the ZERO system combat files that were recovered with the data-"  
  
"ZERO system?!"  
  
Suddenly, Lady Une looked for all the world like she wanted to throw her hands over her mouth. A guilty look entered her eye, and Quatre watched her throw an apologetic glance towards Trowa. What the hell was going on?  
  
Trowa turned to him, a stern look on his face; he wanted Quatre just to listen. "When Heero downloaded the information from their main computer, he pulled in all the children's medical files, along with a large section of the ZERO systems combat files. It appears that they got the files from Dorothy's copy of the system. At this point we're not sure what they were doing with them."  
  
"They had the-but why?" Quatre could feel the panic rise in him. The ZERO. With that system they could do almost anything.  
  
"We don't know yet, Quatre." Lady Une's face was back to normal-her cool demeanor back in place. "We do know this, though-they were running the files at some point in time, and they were showing them to Shinigami."  
  
"Showing them to him! What, like Saturday morning cartoons!?" Nearly screaming, Duo was on his feet again, anger coursing off of him in waves. "Those files have pretty disturbing images on them to be showing a five year old! Hell, I'm freaked to watch them!"  
  
"We don't know yet wh-"  
  
"Well, find out!" Heero grabbed Duo's wrist and pulled him onto his lap, trying to quiet his enraged and disturbed partner as best he could. Duo continued to struggle until Heero leaned over and whispered something soothing into his ear. Slowly, Duo began to calm down and with a last struggling sigh, melted into Heero's strong comfort.  
  
Quatre recalled that both Duo and Heero had been analyzed by the ZERO, and Duo had even been made to face a ZERO copy of both himself and Heero in battle. He shivered at the thought.  
  
"Duo, I promise you we will do everything we can to find out the truth. Right now we've still got very little usable data, and the children are still asleep. Once they wake up, we'll be able to learn exactly what's been going on. Until then, we just have to wait." For a moment, Lady looked as if she wanted to protest against herself, but she quickly straightened. "I know this is hard on all of you, especially you five. I understand that, Quatre, you're very concerned about the children in general, and Trowa and Duo, both of you feel very strongly about Shinigami and Killishandra; but right now there isn't much we can do.  
  
"Sally is planning on forcing them awake this afternoon. I think that right now, all we can do is be there for them and try to gain their trust. It's obvious we're missing pieces to this puzzle, and those children may be the only way to find them."  
  
They nodded their heads in agreement, knowing that there wasn't anything else for them to do.  
  
Quatre turned to Sally. "How long until you wake them up? I want to be there. Trowa told me the little gi-Killashandra, seemed to be looking for me both times she woke up."  
  
Sally nodded. "I'm looking at late afternoon. I don't like that they're sleeping so much, but I still feel like they should get as much rest as they can now. Why don't we say four, and I'll meet you in the med. bay?" Quatre nodded.  
  
As one the group broke up, with personnel going back to work and the pilots standing to discuss a few more things.  
  
"I don't like it. The kid's been watching old war strategies and using my old code name. That is so not a good sign of a healthy psyche." Heero nodded but tightened his arm about Duo's shoulder.  
  
"Not to mention all his broken bones. I can't even imagine how much pain he's had to endure." Quatre felt Trowa embrace him, holding him close.  
  
"It's disgraceful! They are only children, who are not able to defend themselves! I'm going to rip into the curs that did this!" They all nodded grimly.  
  
"I have talked to Killashandra. It is her eyes that worry me; they seem dead, as if she's seen the worst the world has to offer and simply couldn't stand to look anymore." Trowa's tone was wounded, and Quatre spun in his embrace to wrap his arms around his partner's waist, offering comfort.  
  
"I guess we'll know at four." They nodded to Heero and then broke apart, each wondering what four o'clock would hold.  
  
* * *  
  
Quatre was lying on the couch, with Trowa lying on his chest. They'd been like this for two hours, both basking in each other's arms, the sun casting them in beautiful colors.  
  
"You know, Trowa, I haven't gotten you a Christmas present yet. What do you want this year?" Slowly, Quatre was working his good hand through Trowa's hair, removing any knots he found there in.  
  
They'd come home right after the meeting, both of them tired from the long morning of simply getting Quatre out of the infirmary. The pain from his throat and hand had been too much, and so Trowa had administered another dose of morphine. That had led to Quatre crashing on the couch and pulling Trowa with him. The worst of the high having worn off, Quatre was now in the mood to talk.  
  
Trowa shrugged his shoulders, head resting on Quatre's chest. He idly played with the buttons he found there, undoing them and redoing them. "I have everything I need."  
  
"Oh, Trowa, I know that, but this is different. This is something you want. Tell me something that will make your Christmas special."  
  
Trowa looked up at him, a small smile on his face. "I never celebrated Christmas until you move in with me, and now I have to make up something I want every year so you can get it for me. How is that, considering you don't even celebrate Christmas?"  
  
Quatre chuckled. "I know, but Duo's enthusiasm just rubbed off on me all those years ago. Besides that, it's a very nice tradition. Not to mention that Marieminna does. I had to get her a present anyway, so we might as well celebrate it as a group." Trowa just shook his head, smiling. "Now stop stalling and spill your guts!" He punctuated the point by leaning down and kissing Trowa's nose.  
  
Trowa shook his head again. "I have all that I've ever wanted or will ever need. I have you, don't I?"  
  
"Trowa! You're missing the point of this! You're suppose to tell me some frivolous thing that you want, and I-the devoted worshipper of Trowa the sex god-have to go and get it for you. Duo insists that how you maintain a good sex life, giving offerings to the sex god." They laughed, and it felt so wonderful to do it. The last two months had been the most trying of their lives, and that was saying a lot. It felt so wonderful to think things were moving back to where they were supposed to.  
  
"What would you like for Christmas, Quatre?"  
  
He shrugged. "I don't know? I've got everything I want or need." He smiled, throwing Trowa's earlier statement back at him.  
  
"Alright then, I'll take your gift back." Trowa tried to say it seriously but couldn't manage it at the end.  
  
"Trowa! You got me something already?! Oh, what is it?!" Quatre wasn't sure where the enthusiasm came from-he thought it must be the drugs.  
  
A deep laugh sounded from Trowa, and Quatre loved the way it vibrated through his body and the link. "Nope, it wouldn't be a surprise then."  
  
"Who said it had to be a surprise?!"  
  
"Duo." He paused. "And Marieminna."  
  
"They lied."  
  
"Quatre, it's their holiday. I think they knows the customs."  
  
"Nope, they lied. Now tell me."  
  
"No."  
  
"Trowa!"  
  
They laughed. It was too funny not to.  
  
Letting the conversation drop, Trowa snuggled closer, and Quatre wrapped him tightly into his embrace. He listened to Trowa's deep and even breaths; just hold Trowa not something he could have done a few months ago. Things were falling into place, shifting back to where they were supposed to be.  
  
A long time later, after soft touches and gentle sighs, Trowa spoke. "I have a question for you, but you don't have to answer if you don't want to." Pulling back, Trowa looked at him, a mixture of worry in his expression.  
  
"What is it, Trowa? You know I'll tell you anything."  
  
But Trowa shook his head. "It's not like that. I-I'm wondering what you plan to do about Cijen."  
  
Her name struck hard, and he nearly flinched. Ever since his niece's visit, he'd had time to send replies to almost all of his nieces and nephews. While he'd been in the hospital, he'd even gotten a few replies and had again talked to Sekurra. But he had not yet decided on a plan of action concerning Cijen. The com-messages he'd been receiving all said wonderful things about his sister-how she'd braved the family to stand up for him and had even given up her career to stand by his side. But he couldn't help the hesitation; it didn't seem possible for her-or anyone-to change her opinions about something so quickly. And yet, Sekurra had said that Cijen had never really doubted him-only wanted someone better than Trowa to stand by his side.  
  
He shook his head. "I don't know, and quite frankly it's driving me crazy! I'd like to just call her and scream at her for being so stupid, and at the same time, I don't even want to talk to her. I can't help but think that it's all a game-that I'll call her up, and she'll laugh in my face for believing Sekurra. I know that sounds ridiculous, but I can't help but worry."  
  
Strong arms encircled his waist, and Trowa shifted to lay his head on his stomach. "It doesn't sound ridiculous; it sounds cautious, and I'm glad you're thinking that way. I don't want you running off and doing something you'll later regret."  
  
Again Quarter ran his hands through long brown bangs. "I know you worry about me, and believe me, it feels very nice to be worried over, but you don't have to. This thing with my sister-it's going to work out, you'll see. It's just going to take some time."  
  
Trowa did nothing, just stayed where he was, letting Quatre continue to brush through his hair.  
  
After a long moment. "So what do you really want for Christmas, Trowa?"  
  
He shook his head. "Surprise me."  
  
Quatre nodded. 


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 14  
  
An hour later, Quatre and the others stood by the bed of Shinigami and Killashandra. The two sleeping children were wrapped together, with Shinigami holding tightly to the little girl he seemed obsessed about protecting. Sally had given the injection only moments ago, and now they were waiting for a five and four-year-old to answer a mystery that could mean their lives.  
  
Quatre watched Killashandra struggle to open her eyes, shifting in place for a few moments before a small line of green shone through her lashes. Yawning silently, she stretched, and then curled back into Shinigami, not even acknowledging their presence.  
  
After nearly a minute, Killashandra sat up, still no emotion on her face, and gently nudged Shinigami; nothing happened. Still no expression on her face, she nudged him again; and again there was no response.  
  
Suddenly a feeling of pure terror crossed his senses, and Quatre felt the emotion as if it were his own. Clutching his heart, he looked down and then back up, his eyes meeting green ones that had not changed physically, but his talent knew was only a mask of her terror. Her eyes held an almost pleading look that would have begged him to help her if they'd really looked any different at all. Her expression of terror wasn't a physical dance across her face; no, instead it was an empathic assault against his senses. He knew instantly that she was the one that had been calling him; her mental voice the one that had assaulted his dreams.  
  
Gasping for breath but ignoring Trowa's desperate questions, he slowly moved his hand to rest reassuringly on her small face.  
  
At first she did nothing but simply stared at him, pathing more desperation than any child should. Then, slowly, she dropped her eyes, letting them close nearly all the way, looking at him through her lashes.  
  
He felt Trowa behind him--two strong arms on his shoulders--but he didn't respond; he had to reassure Killashandra first. In a soft voice, he spoke to her, not bothered when she didn't open her eyes; he knew she was listening.  
  
"Killashandra, it's alright you're safe here. So is Shinigami. You're at my home, and right now you're in the hospital-a place where people go when they don't feel good. You and Shinigami were hurt from the fire, and so my friends and I brought you here to rest and get better. I know you don't talk, and that's ok you don't have to; just listen.  
  
"Shinigami is fine; he's still sleeping, but he's been taking very good care of you--very, very good care of you. All the time you were sleeping, he kept you safe and warm the whole time. He's going to wake up in just a little while. He got some bruises.and he's been sleeping so he can get better. But don't be afraid, he's going to be just fine; we're just waiting for him to wake up."  
  
He watched her open her eyes, making eye contact with him. Her face was impassive as always, and her eyes-though not dead like before-were like glass--see-through into nothingness.  
  
With a start, Shinigami awoke. Eyes blinking open and staying open, he seemed to regard the ceiling for a moment. But Killashandra had felt his slight jerk, and she looked down at him before dropping her frame to rest against his lightly. She wrapped her hand around his neck and rested her head on his shoulder, closing her eyes.  
  
Shinigami wasted no time, however. Almost before they knew what was going on, Shinigami was sitting up and pulling Killashandra up as well. He pushed her to arm's length roughly, and then to their total amazement, began to look her over.  
  
When the children had first arrived, they'd been redressed in hospital attire, but now their still unclean bodies were clothed in plain white pajama bottoms and tee-shirts. Shinigami lifted the tee-shirt off Killashandra, running his small hands over her porcelain and paper thin skin. He forcefully turned her around and then searched her back the same way. When he seemed satisfied that she was not injured on top, he helped her with her shirt.  
  
"Lift your arms." And the little girl complied, raising her arms high, while Shinigami slipped the sleeves over her arms and then tugged the fabric back over her body.  
  
"Give me your leg." He tugged her right leg, and without hesitation she produced it for him, resting her foot on his thigh. Shinigami peeled the cloth back from her leg, and then brutally twisted it to look at the underside; Killashandra did nothing.  
  
Throughout the examination, she remained quiet, her facial expressions not changing from the impassivity she'd held upon leaving Quatre's light touch. Occasionally her eyes would make eye contact with Shinigami's, but then he would move her in some direction or other, and she'd move with her body, leaving the look behind.  
  
When he seemed satisfied that Killishandra was not injured, he pushed her to sit next to him and then began to look at himself. He raised his arms in front of him, turning them one way or another, before settling them and twisting his body. He seemed to pause in a few places, but after taking a quick glance at Killashandra-who was again looking at him-he continued to move another way.  
  
When he again seemed satisfied with his own health, he turned to Killashandra on the bed and just looked at her. No words were spoken, but the pilots watched in stunned fascination as the boy nodded his head every now and then, seeming to talk back and forth with his small friend.  
  
Quatre stole a glance away from the two children and looked at his own friends. Heero was watching the children in a sort of silent confusion; it was obvious that the perfect soldier had no idea what the children were doing. Like Heero, Duo seemed confused as well, but at the same time, he watched the boy with a curious look of pity and worry. Wufei looked as if he thought them both insane and was wondering when they were going to stop this crazy display and get some answers. Turning his head, Quatre looked up and saw Trowa. His lover held a look that spoke of sadness and fear--as if Trowa could understand the confusion that Quatre now saw in the little boy's eyes.  
  
"You're Quatre." It was a statement, not a question and Quatre regarded the boy for a moment before answering with a nod; the boy's voice was still authoritative.  
  
"Where are we?"  
  
"You're at the Preventer Earth Headquarters--my home. Right now you're in the hospital, getting better." Quatre watched as the boy turned from him to look back at the girl, before nodding once to her and then turning back to him expectantly. Quatre continued, "You've been asleep for the last five days. That's how long ago I came and got you from that room."  
  
Shinigami looked to the girl again and after a moment looked back at him and nodded. "We remember."  
  
The 'we' struck Quatre funny, but he decided to dismiss it for now, hoping instead to ease the tension he saw in Shinigami's eyes.  
  
"When the other pilots and I took you away from that room, we also got some other information. Can you tell me--is your name Shinigami?"  
  
For a second, the boy looked almost scared, and then he turned quickly to face Killashandra. They seemed to 'talk' for a moment before Shinigami shook his head at her. Some more time passed, and then finally the boy sighed and looked back at Quatre.  
  
"Shingam, Sh-ing-am. Don't call me Shinigami." His eyes held a note of danger should they disobey, so Quatre only nodded his head. The boy did not want to be known as Death.  
  
"Alright, Shingam, I have another question; is this Killashandra?"  
  
The boy shook his head vehemently. "Her name is Killa, Kee-la, but that's what I call her; I'll tell you what you can call her later. Don't talk to her." Again a note of violence was in his voice, and Quatre wondered if this boy really wouldn't hurt him if he disobeyed.  
  
"Ok, Shingam, but we really should call her something. What if I need to ask her a question?"  
  
"You won't. Killa doesn't talk. She won't talk to you."  
  
On the battlefield, he'd been considered the greatest strategist among them, and now was no different.  
  
"How about this--if I need to talk to her, I'll ask her a question using 'Killashandra', and then look at you for the answer. That way no one will get confused as to whom I'm referring." He knew the gamble was risky, but he also hoped he had more advanced skills than a five-year-old. It seemed this time he did.  
  
"Fine."  
  
Shingam looked to the girl and then again, they seemed to be talking without words to each other. This whole time, none of the others had said a word, and Quatre was getting a little nervous by their silence.  
  
Looking up, Shingam addressed him. "We need a place to stay."  
  
For a moment Quatre was confused, and then he understood that the children didn't know they were going to stay with him; he told them so. "Actually, you'll be staying with me for a while. They're getting a room set up for the both of you right now."  
  
Nodding his head, Shingam approved of the response.  
  
Quatre looked over at Killashandra and made eye contact with her again, her eyes quiet. "Is that ok with you, Killashandra, to stay with me?"  
  
Suddenly Shingam was standing on the bed, a stony look in his eyes. "Killa's my responsibility, and I already said we'd stay with you for now. Killa needs a place to sleep, so we'll stay, but I'll take care of her, not you. She's my responsibility, not yours." And then he sat down and pulled Killashandra to him, wrapping his arms around her own and holding her tightly from behind.  
  
Stunned, Quatre only nodded his head, while silence fell harshly across the room.  
  
The sound of Duo's voice cutting through the quiet caused Quatre to look at him.  
  
"So Shingam, you and your girlfriend like ice cream?"  
  
Two pairs of eyes, once only looking at Duo because he'd spoken, now looked at him with interest. They looked away for a moment, at each other, and then back at Duo. Shingam answered. "What kind?"  
  
A sparkle danced in Duo's eyes and for a quick second. Quatre was worried but he shouldn't have been.  
  
"What kind do you kids like?"  
  
The boy shrugged. "Don't know what it's called, but it's white. That's the kind Killa likes."  
  
"VANILLA! That's crazy! How boring is that?!"  
  
Shingam gave him a look, and for a moment, Duo seemed to pause in confusion before brushing it aside and continuing on his tirade. "I'll tell you both what--I'll get you ten different kinds of ice cream to try. That way, you guys can find something better than plain old vanilla. Geesh, I can't believe you like vanilla."  
  
"We only got it once."  
  
"Got what, Vanilla?"  
  
"Ice cream."  
  
Duo's jester face faltered--to think that children could have only tasted ice cream once in their entire lives; it was too sad for words. Quatre felt his heart go out to them. So hurt and lost, he knew he had to protect them. The children and Trowa--they were his new family--blood meant nothing, and he'd care for them with his dying breath.  
  
Recovering, Duo tried another tactic. "Well we can't have that, now can we? You two are too skinny as it is. We need to fatten you both up! So here's the deal--you do me a favor, and I'll get you all the ice cream you can eat! I won't even let Quatre and his sense of nutrition ruin it for you." Duo smiled at him, offering a wink of good humor.  
  
But Shingam didn't seem to get the joke. At the mention of a deal, he'd instantly tensed, his small body going rigid, and he clasped his arms more tightly around the girl. "What deal?"  
  
"Uh? Oh yeah, it's really simple. I get the ice cream, and the two of you take a bath. How's that for simple?"  
  
Quatre closed his eyes. This wasn't going to work. How could Duo think to make them wheel and deal at a time like this, when they were trying so hard just to get the children to trust them? He wanted to reach out his hand and strangle his best friend. Duo no Baka!  
  
"Ok."  
  
Turing quickly around, Quatre looked in amazement at the boy on the bed. Had he really agreed to Duo's terms--and so readily as well? Had he read the boy wrong?  
  
"Yeah? Hey, cool! Ok, here's what we'll do. Shingam you come with me, and Killa, you go with Sally. We'll me-"  
  
"NO!"  
  
Startled, the group of pilots turned to the boy, who had once again used a voice with far too much authority. His face showed anger, but Quatre could see the underlying fear that rested behind those eyes.  
  
But it was Heero that understood that fear. "Shingam," he said and paused until the gray eyes fell upon him, "Killashandra will not be separated from you. However, you both must bathe. Will it be acceptable for us to be with Killashandra as she bathes?"  
  
Shingam looked at Heero for a moment, sizing him up it seemed. He looked to Killashandra and then back to Heero, a softer more relaxed expression on his face.  
  
"I can bathe myself. Trowa can bathe Killashandra."  
  
Once again stunned, Quatre looked up at Trowa, as did the other pilots. As far as they knew, the boy did not know any of their names besides Quatre's, and that was only because Quatre had introduced himself. Trowa had told the small girl his name, but she didn't talk. How would Shingam know his name? He watched Trowa regard the boy for a moment before shifting his eyes to the small, white-haired girl who sat next to him. Then he nodded, and Shingam seemed to relax even further.  
  
"Great! Now that that's settled, Wufei, you go get the ice cream, and the dirt on the two of you gets a one way ticket to Sewersville." Leaning in, Duo whispered to Shingam. "I've heard it's not the greatest town, but who knows, maybe the dirt will like it there?" He winked and a real and true smirk appeared on Shingam's face.  
  
Like the efficient team they were, the pilots broke up. Duo lifted Shingam into his arms and waited by the bed for Trowa to do the same for Killashandra. Quatre watched as the girl lay quietly against Trowa's shoulder and tracked Shingam lazily with her eyes, unafraid.  
  
For a brief second, Killashandra turned to Quatre, eyes meeting, then she turned away and looked back to Shingam. Quatre wasn't sure, but he'd felt something in her look--a sense that he couldn't place, but one that felt a lot like reassured uncertainty. He turned quickly to Sally. "I'm sure they'll be fine. They'll stay in the extra room we have. Trowa had someone clear it out while I was sleeping; he knew I'd want the children to stay close to me." Quatre smiled sheepishly and then moved to follow his friends out of the room.  
  
Together they walked down the hallway and took the lift. Quatre watched silently as Shingam reached over Heero-who stood between Duo and Trowa-to touch Killashandra's bare foot. The boy's expression was unreadable.  
  
They stepped off on their floor and moved to Duo and Heero's rooms. When the pilots had first moved in, the five rooms had been identical. One large room that would be the living room, one bedroom with a bath, and a separate room that could be used as a den or study.  
  
Over the years, the rooms had been changed and expanded. Once a hallway that had consisted of five apartments, it now had two large ones and one small one-which was empty, Wufei having moved into Sally's quarters long ago. The two larger apartments had been formed when the two couples had torn down the walls on either side, making what once was four separate spaces into two homes.  
  
Beyond that, the rooms had changed drastically. Quatre and Trowa's rooms had been carpeted in white and the bathroom given a complete makeover. No longer were there sterile white walls, but paintings that Quatre had purchased for Trowa's pleasure over the years. Quatre had decorated their home mostly for Trowa, allowing his quiet partner to pick and choose what he'd liked, only offering his opinion when asked. He'd once told Trowa that the bedroom they slept in had originally been Trowa's, so he should get to decorate it however way he wanted. When Trowa had argued that the only reason they'd chosen his room was because it was on the opposite side of Heero and Duo's bedroom, Quatre had only shrugged his shoulders. "Fine, then do it just because I want you to." Trowa couldn't argue with that.  
  
In the same way, Duo and Heero's rooms had been redecorated. Once the wall between them came down, Heero had kept his own rooms separate, needing a space to call his own. However, their bedroom was another thing. Duo had decorated it in a wild fashion. Crazy and bold colors shouted from every direction. Likewise the bathroom had been treated the same way, decorated in not one single color that could be considered 'mute.'  
  
But they were using Duo and Heero's room for a different reason besides the décor, the bathtub. When the bathroom had been remodeled, Duo had insisted that there be a bathtub, and not a small one either; this was something designed for two grown men; Duo-at that time only eighteen-had planned ahead.  
  
They walked through the bedroom, Shingam's eyes furrowing at the colors that surrounded them. His small expression only become more disturbed as they entered the bathroom and fell upon the hunter green bathtub. Quatre remembered that his expression had been the same the first time he'd seen the tub. Duo had quickly set him straight. "Quatre, don't look so sick. Do you have any idea what kind of a sexual stimulant green is? Let me tell you, I'm gonna get more in that bathtub then I ever will in bed!" Quatre had never asked if he'd been right and only noticed the tired way both lovers had handled themselves after its installation. He'd immediately gone out and bought green shirts for Trowa and himself; there seemed to be some validity to Duo's statement. He smiled to himself.  
  
"Ok, Squirts! The clothes come off, and you get into the nice warm tub, got it?" Duo smiled kindly at the two children and gently rested Shingam to sit on the toilet seat. Behind him, Heero started the bath, while Trowa set Killashandra gently on the countertop.  
  
Shingam looked to Killashandra, who shared another look with him, before he lifted himself off the seat and approached the tub to stand next to Heero.  
  
"I'll check the water to make sure it's not too hot for Killa." He had an expectant look on his face, and Heero could do little more than nod and step aside. After the water reached half way, Shingam cautiously placed his fingers in. Satisfied, he turned to address Trowa. "I'll take a bath first, then Killa can come in. I'll help you wash her."  
  
Silently, Trowa nodded his head and turned to give Quatre a confused look. He returned it with a fair amount of his own confusion; he couldn't sense a thing from the little boy not two feet away.  
  
But Shingam continued. "Duo?" Startled, Duo offered a weak smile. "You can help me." That said, Shingam hurriedly stepped out of his clothes and entered the bathtub without a hint of modesty. Shaking his head, Duo winked at Quatre before kneeling before the tub.  
  
Turning back to Heero, he asked, "Remember that big ugly vase Relena sent us for Christmas last year? The one in the back of the cabinet marked 'Give to Wufei for Birthday' you want to grab it for me?" Heero smirked but nodded and left the room.  
  
Immersed to his chin, Shingam sat patiently in the tub looking oblivious to being surrounded by water. When Heero returned, Duo took the vase-which truly was ugly in Quatre's opinion-filled it with water, and gently poured it over Shingam's head.  
  
The boy closed his eyes, and when the water had stopped flowing swiped at them with his fingertips. Then an amazing thing happened--Shingam looked at Duo and smiled-- a genuine smile that lit up his face and was responded to in kind by the God of Death.  
  
"You know, you look like a drowned rat. Ever seen one?"  
  
Shingam nodded. "Once."  
  
"Ugly, isn't it?"  
  
"Yes. But I'm not dead." There was an ounce of uncertainty in his voice that sounded to Quatre like he was trying to convince himself of its truth. He felt a wave of some emotion and knew instantly that it was coming from the boy.  
  
Moving to kneel beside Duo, Quatre gently brushed the soggy hair from Shingam's face before speaking. "You're not dead, Shingam, you're are safe. Nothing bad will happen to you here. Neither myself nor anyone else will let that happen. I know right now it's confusing and very scary, but you have to believe me when I tell you--this isn't a dream, and you really are safe."  
  
Shingam took pause for a moment, studying Quatre's words, then straightened his legs out and pushed away from them, resting his back against the other side of the tub. He closed his eyes, all semblance of a smile gone from his stone cold face. He seemed to have withdrawn into himself for a moment, and Quatre was beginning to regret ever saying anything in the first place, when Shingam suddenly sat up straight and looked directly at him.  
  
"We're not dead. You came like she said you would."  
  
Ignoring the "We" again, Quatre addressed the more pressing issue. "Shingam, who's the "she" you speak of? What's her name?"  
  
Shingam again seemed to contemplate Quatre for a moment before answering.  
  
"Mother."  
  
"Mother?"  
  
"Mother."  
  
There was no further explanation, and to Quatre's amazement, not an ounce of love or affection was present in Shingam's use of the word. As if it were just that--a word, a title that meant nothing.  
  
Rescuing him, Duo interrupted. "Hey! Are we taking a bath or having a tea party, 'cause if it's a tea party, I think Shingam's a little underdressed if you know what I mean. Come here, you little rugrat, so I can finish you up and get you dried off."  
  
Without hesitation, Shingam moved back towards Duo and allowed another vase full of water to be poured over his head before Duo grabbed for the shampoo and went for it.  
  
Fifteen minutes later found Shingam out of the tub, wrapped in a fluffy white towel that looked very out of place in a bathroom that didn't have another piece of white in it at all.  
  
Shingam looked at Trowa after Duo had sufficiently toweled off the excess water from his hair. "Killashandra can bathe now. I'll help you."  
  
"Now wait just a second. I just got you all dried off. You're not getting wet again!" The glare from Shingam was immediate and long lasting, and Quatre watched a strange expression cross Duo's face--a look of recognition.  
  
"Killashandra is my responsibility! I won't let you keep her from me!"  
  
"Shingam." Heero moved next to the boy, kneeling down to drop eye level with him. "Duo is just concerned for you. I know you understand what it's like to try and care for someone; I've watched you care for Killashandra very well. Maybe you could sit with Duo while Trowa bathes Killashandra, and if it looks like Trowa needs your help, Duo will let you go. I think that sounds fair, don't you?"  
  
A blank expression washed across the boy's face before he nodded his head cautiously and turned to look at Killashandra. "You do what Trowa tells you to. I'm going to be right here with Duo, and I'll come for you if you need me. I'll take care of you."  
  
The words were so hauntingly familiar. Hadn't Quatre promised the same thing over and over to Trowa? Hadn't he spoken with the same sick determination to protect his lover at all costs? How could this little boy know such raw and powerful emotions?!  
  
Killashandra cocked her head ever so slightly at Shingam's words before turning to look at the bathtub--another blank expression on her face.  
  
Trowa lifted her chin, forcing her to look at his face, and smiled at her. Behind him, Quatre moved to empty the tub and refill it. When the water was half way full, he spoke to Shingam. "Do you want to test the water for Killashandra?"  
  
"Is it too hot?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Is it too cold?"  
  
"No, I don't think so."  
  
"Then we trust you."  
  
How? Why? Why him? There were so many unanswered questions, and Quatre didn't even know where to begin. Deciding it was best to wait until the children were more comfortable with them, Quatre let the conversation drop. But still the "we" again struck at him oddly.  
  
Trowa moved next to him by the tub and very gently removed Killashandra's tee-shirt. Lightly he stroked her hair until her wandering gaze managed to fall on him. He smiled and then tickled her tummy before slowly-so as not to scare her-removed her pants. For a moment she tensed, and Quatre watched as Trowa tensed with her; out of the corner of his eye, he saw Shingam shift in Duo's lap. But she only blinked her eyes before moving her gaze jerkily towards the waiting water. Taking it as her permission, Trowa lifted her gently over the lip of the tub and placed her into the warm liquid.  
  
A look of shock crossed her face, and Quatre was unprepared for the immediate look of pure panic she threw at him. He was at her side in a moment.  
  
"It's ok, Sweetheart, don't worry. It's just water. It can't hurt you. Shingam was just in that same tub, and he's fine. Go ahead, ask him." He knew immediately he was taking a big risk. His guess was that the "we" was a connection between Shingam and Killashandra. He hoped he was right.  
  
He turned his head when Shingam approached the side of the tub. He offered the boy a soft smile. "Quatre's right. This water won't hurt you. Be good and let Trowa wash your hair. You like to have your hair washed, just like you do having someone brush it. Trowa will brush it for you when you're out of the water. Be good."  
  
While he talked, Killashandra met his eyes, listening intently to everything Shingam had told her. When he finished, she looked down at the water she was standing in before flexing her legs and dropping into the warmth around her. When she'd settled, she looked at first to Trowa and then Quatre before she looked back at the water, which rested just below her lower lip.  
  
Taking the hint, Trowa took the vase they'd turned into a watering bucket, and gently poured the warm water over Killashandra's matted and greasy hair- -careful to block her eyes from getting water in them. He repeated the step a few more times, until he was satisfied. Then like Duo, lathered her hair four times before he was satisfied it was clean.  
  
Quatre felt the apprehension through the link the moment Trowa was finished with the child's hair and he understood. Shingam had been proficient in the ways of thorough bathing, but Killashandra was completely unresponsive, and Trowa was at an impasse. Taking a deep breath, Trowa turned to Shingam. "I've finished washing her hair, but her body is also dirty. Would you ask her if she minds me washing her?"  
  
A confused expression crossed Shingam's face before he turned to the waterlogged girl in the tub. A few blinks of the eyes and a nod later, and Shingam returned his look to Trowa. "You understand. Like the others don't. We give you permission."  
  
Puzzled by his answer, Quatre and Trowa shared a look between them before Trowa finished Killashandra's bath and lifted her from the tub.  
  
By this time, Duo had already pulled out the two hair dryers he used to dry his own hair on the mornings it didn't go immediately into a braid. On the counter sat Shingam, naked and completely uninhibited by that very fact. Quatre wondered just how much of it was actually good modesty, and how much of it had been forced on him.  
  
Trowa moved Killashandra to the same counter, so the children were separated only by a sink. Shingam took Killashandra's hand the moment Trowa moved the towel from around her body to dry her hair. "You did good, Killa. You're a good girl." It seemed almost demeaning, but Quatre could see a sparkle enter the young girl's eyes at the praise; these were strange children indeed.  
  
"Ok! Shingam, we're gonna dry this rag mop you call hair, but I promise, I'm giving you a haircut in the morning. Hey! Don't look at me like that! I cut Heero's hair, and it doesn't look that bad now does it?" Shingam shifted his eyes to Heero, studying his hair before looking back at Duo and begrudgingly shook his head. "Yes, Sir, I got the hair cutting thing down! Actually you're a very lucky little boy. I happen to be very proficient at using this here hair drying mechanism, and I promise to give you a look that will have the girls screaming.well.maybe not screaming."  
  
"Duo no baka! Just dry his hair! He's been wet for the last twenty minutes!"  
  
"Heero, I'm dispelling his fears about my beautician skills. And I know he's wet; it doesn't take a genius to figure that out! But unlike you, I had the kid tucked safely-and warmly I might add-in a big fluffy towel this whole time. Um, by the way, where'd we get this towel anyway? I didn't buy it."  
  
"The last time you fell in the pool drinking, Sally wrapped you in it before Wufei brought you home. It's hers. We should probably return it."  
  
"Oh."  
  
"Yes, 'Oh.' Now dry his hair."  
  
"Yes, Heero."  
  
At the sound of the drier, Quatre turned his attention back to Trowa and Killashandra. The little girl was watching Duo tug a brush through Shingam's hair; when Trowa turned on his hair drier, she gave another little start. Smiling, Trowa quickly waved the warm air across her stomach to show her it could do her no harm. When he was satisfied she understood, he began the seemingly cumbersome task of drying a mass of hair almost as long as she was tall.  
  
They were both unprepared for the reaction they received when Trowa first ran his fingers through Killashandra's drying hair. Eyes drifted closed, and Killashandra leaned into the touch completely, even nodding her head to feel the full effect of Trowa's hand. It was then that Quatre decided Sally was right, there was nothing physically wrong with this little girl, but something had happened to her; and seeing her react like any child would, Quatre felt the rage boil his blood.  
  
Trowa sensed his emotions and turned to offer a reassuring smile. Then, turning back to Killashandra, he lifted her massive hair from the bottom and scrunched it, allowing the curl that should rightfully be there come to the fore. Quatre gave him a look that read, "How do you know how to do that?!" Trowa caught the look and smiled sheepishly. "Catherine." Quatre smiled and nodded.  
  
Then they were both dry; Shingam's hair a wild torrent of tousled spikes, and Killashandra's a mass of knee-long ringlet curls that had sprang to life in Trowa's gentle hands.  
  
They were just about to send Heero into the other room for clean shirts when Wufei knocked on the door.  
  
"Sally sent these. It seems she's been buying children's clothing for her staff for Christmas. They should fit, she said." Quatre took the clothes, admiring the red dress and the white pant and shirt outfit, both of a traditional Chinese design. He turned questioning eyes on Wufei; the other pilot only shrugged, caught in his small lie. "Unlike Maxwell, my clothes don't get ruined the day after I wear them. Those outfits were two of the few surviving items from the Dragon Clan's destruction. It was mine once, and.Meiran's.they can have them; it's not as if they do me any good."  
  
Quatre smiled softy at Wufei. Let it never be said the Shelong pilot was not generous to a fault. Duo obviously agreed and knew to lighten the mood.  
  
"Did you hear that, Shingam? Wufei's letting you wear his clothes! Now normally I'd save you from such a fate, but I think as a kid, he had a good eye for clothing--especially clothing that was going to stay trapped in a library all day." Duo smirked, retaliating against the comment of his ruined clothes. "However, I think it's fair to say that Wu-man has earned his one day of 'No Duo hassle'. Yep, it starts the day after I'm dead."  
  
"That can be arranged, Maxwell."  
  
"Wufei, you'd miss me, and you know it!"  
  
"Hn." Some friendships are just too complex to explain.  
  
Turning away from Wufei, Quatre handed the pants outfit to Heero before turning back to Killashandra. The little girl was watching him. He smiled at her before unbuttoning the dress and carefully sliding it over her head. Trowa helped him maneuver her arms into the half sleeves, and then she was dressed. But Quatre thought something was missing. Realizing what it was, he pulled the ribbon that lovingly had held the dress in its folded position, and pulled her hair away from her face, tying it back into a bow. He smiled down at her and caught Trowa's approving expression before gently turning Killashandra towards the mirror.  
  
"See, Sweetheart, you look absolutely beautiful. Just like a little princess." He knew she was looking and listening to him. He watched her eyes trace her reflection in the mirror before returning to his gaze. "Only pretty and beautiful clothes from now on, I promise. You'll only have the best from now on."  
  
It was a promise he intended to keep, no matter what.  
  
When Shingam was dressed, Trowa lifted Killashandra into his arms and carried her back towards the lift, with Duo, Shingam, and Heero not far behind. It was time to fulfill their half of the promise. 


	5. Chapter 5

* * *  
  
"IT'S DISGUSTING!"  
  
"It's perfectly healthy and better for them than chocolate!"  
  
"CHANG!"  
  
"MAXWELL!"  
  
"BOTH OF YOU STOP IT!!!" Heero took a deep breath to calm himself. "Now, both of you shut up. Duo, put Shingam down. Wufei, help me open these containers. And Duo," he paused until he had his lover's attention, "peanut butter ice cream is not disgusting."  
  
"I told you, Maxwell."  
  
"Shut up!"  
  
Quatre chuckled at the antics of his friends. Beside him, Trowa gently placed Killashandra on her feet so she was standing on the table in the middle of their private dining room. He smiled at her before running his hand lightly over her hair; she again leaned into the touch.  
  
Quatre smiled once more to Trowa and then moved to collect two bowls for the ice cream. Once he had them in hand, he turned just in time to see Sally and Lady enter; they opted to sit discretely out of the way. He nodded in their direction before returning to Trowa's side.  
  
As he set the bowls down, his injured arm brushed lightly against the edge of the table, and it was all he could do to keep from crying out. He'd noticed the pain return not long after helping Killashandra into her dress but he'd opted to ignore it. There were more important things to be done. The last dose of morphine Trowa had given him had been hours ago, and now the pain was returning full force.  
  
Opening his eyes, he noticed Killashandra watching him and knew immediately, he had to be strong; she and Shingam were more important than his stupid arm. He tried to figure out how these two strange and mysterious children had become such an important and integral part of his life in only a matter of a few days. But in reality, it was much longer than that; these children had been a part of him since they'd first started calling for his help--and something told him, even longer than that.  
  
Suddenly, he felt his chin lifted and a pair of warm, soft lips meet his own. When Trowa pulled away, Quatre was almost breathless. "I thought you could use that." Trowa offered a devilish smile before taking the bowls from his still stunned hands.  
  
Guilt suffused Quatre as he considered telling Trowa about his arm. He knew his lover would not appreciate his silence but also knew that Trowa would insist on another dose of medication. It would take nearly an hour for the medicine to wear off enough for him to function again, and he simply didn't have time for that.  
  
Taking a deep breath and willing away the ache in his arm, Quatre pulled a chair from the table and sat, urging Killashandra to sit on the top of the table. After a little coaxing, she did; Shingam came to sit beside her. He noticed that Killashandra had not looked away from him, not even when Shingam had come to sit next to her; he decided to say nothing.  
  
A moment later, Duo was beside him, eye level with Shingam. "Ok, kiddo, what kind of ice cream do you want to try first?"  
  
A slight panic seemed to steal over the boy before he turned to look at Heero. Then just as quickly as the look had appeared, Shingam turned back to Duo and said, "The white kind."  
  
"What! You mean Vanilla? Kid, you gotta learn to live a little. But ok, if that's what you want, fine. Vanilla it is--coming right up. Tro, be so kind as to assist me in the scooping process. Ahh, there's a good man."  
  
Quatre laughed softly as Trowa bowed at the waist in response to Duo's request before winking at him and reaching for the container with the Vanilla. There was a little tiff, however, as Duo used his hip to push Trowa away from the ice cream scoop before Trowa retaliated and simply stole the dish Duo had been scooping into. He watched as Shingam smiled and even Killashandra turned to look before returning her gaze to his face.  
  
"They're pretty crazy, aren't they, Shingam?"  
  
The boy turned to look at him before nodding, "Yes."  
  
"Crazy, hmm?" Trowa looked down at him, a teasing smile on his face. Quatre only wished his arm didn't hurt so much, so he could enjoy it.  
  
"Well, you know, crazy in a loose sense of the word. Not really 'crazy', crazy."  
  
"Hn."  
  
Handing him the bowl and spoon, Trowa took the chair beside him. Smiling against the pain that was rapidly becoming more apparent, Quatre used his good hand to load the spoon before lifting it to Killashandra's mouth. But the child refused to open.  
  
"Killashandra, it's ok. It's just ice cream. It won't hurt you." But the little girl refused, only looking into Quatre's eyes, making him witness her silence like a blow.  
  
"Quatre." Startled, he turned to look at Shingam. "Wait."  
  
A command, not a request. He turned to look at Duo who'd taken the seat in front of Shingam before turning back to Shingam and nodding his head.  
  
The boy quickly looked away and took the bowl of ice cream from Duo's hands. He lifted the bowl and looked accusingly at the white substance inside. Turning the bowl, he seemed to be looking for something. Lifting it to his nose, he smelled it before handing it back to Duo.  
  
"You taste it first."  
  
Quatre's heart broke at the complete lack of trust this little boy had in all of them. He wanted to reach across the foot that separated them and take Shingam into his arms, promise his eternal safety, and never let him go. Quatre watched as the same emotions flitted across the face of the man that had once called himself Death.  
  
Offering a weak smile and a nod, Duo set the bowl on the table and lifted the spoon, taking a bite of the ice cream. Then in a very Duo-like fashion, caused a scene.  
  
"AAAKKCCKKKK!" Grabbing at his throat, Duo dropped the spoon and threw his head back. Suddenly, he lurched forward and into Shingam's line of sight. Mouth hanging open, tongue sticking out, Duo rolled his eyes into the back of his head and let out a loud gasping breath.  
  
In front of him, Shingam's eyes had become huge, attesting to his fear. Yet the boy remained where he was, not moving a muscle.  
  
Then Duo started to convulse. Shaking his entire body in the chair before suddenly stopping dead and slacking lifelessly in his chair.  
  
The last movement of Duo's body acted like a release for Shingam, who jumped up and screamed. "Quatre!" There was a note of pure terror in the boy's voice, and if Duo's antics hadn't happened so quickly, he would have stopped him immediately.  
  
Just as he was reaching out for Shingam, Duo suddenly sat up and grabbed the boy into his arms, swinging him around until he could lean up against the table's edge.  
  
Eyes wider than the sun, Shingam stared at Duo, too frightened and stunned to say anything or even move. But Duo only planted a loud kiss on the boy's forehead and said, "Didn't I already tell you I hated Vanilla ice cream? I don't know how you and Heero can stand the stuff!"  
  
"Duo what the Hell were you thinking?!" Heero's outraged voice sang across the silent room.  
  
Duo visibly winced under Heero's angry tone. "Gee, I was just playing around. Shingam knew I was just joking, didn't you?" But when Duo looked into Shingam's eyes, he knew immediately he'd made a grave error. In his arms, the boy visibly shook, a haunted look cemented on his face. "Oh, God. Shingam, are you ok? Look, I'm fine. Everything's ok. I was only playing with you; it was just a joke. Look, I'm ok; and the ice cream wasn't poisoned or anything. It was just a joke. Oh, God, kiddo, I'm so sorry." Duo held the boy close, wrapping his arms completely around Shingam's shaking body.  
  
Quatre was about to lay into Duo when Heero did it for him. "Duo, let go of him."  
  
"Heero, I was only-"  
  
"NOW!"  
  
Taking the little trembling boy from Duo's reluctant grasp, Heero swung the boy into his own arms and held him close. Lightly he ran his hand over the rich sable hair and talked to him quietly. "Don't be afraid, Shingam, Duo was only being a baka-idiot. He didn't mean to scare you, but that doesn't make it right, either. Look, he's fine, just being stupid." And Shingam did, lifting his face from Heero's neck. Shingam looked over at Duo before pulling away and looking at Heero in question. "He was only being a baka. He's fine, and the ice cream is fine, too. We won't hurt you. That's why your mother told you Quatre would come and save you. She knew we wouldn't let anything happen to you. You'll be safe here always."  
  
Shingam looked down and then glanced at Duo's remorseful face before turning to Killashandra. They looked at each other for a moment before Shingam nodded once and then looked back at Heero. "Duo's still alive." Heero nodded to the statement. "The ice cream isn't poisoned." Again, Heero nodded. "He was only being a baka."  
  
A slight grin slipped past Heero's stoic face before he nodded. "Duo no baka." Shingam seemed to think this over for a moment before nodding his head and looking back at Duo. "Can we have some ice cream now?"  
  
Relief washed over Duo's face as he nodded his head and reached for the bowl. Heero shook his head before setting Shingam next to Killashandra once more. The two children looked at each other again and remained that way until Duo handed the bowl to Shingam.  
  
Duo asked, "You don't want me to taste it again, now do you?"  
  
Heero was about to say something--as was Quatre--when Shingam looked to Duo and offered a slight smile. Handing the unexamined bowl back to Duo, he looked from the bowl to Duo and then opened his mouth. Smiling, Duo scooped the white confection onto the spoon and delivered it to Shingam's waiting mouth.  
  
The boy seemed to pause for a moment before he slowly began to work the melting ice cream around. Finally, when there was nothing left, he looked from Duo to Quatre and then to Heero before looking to the bowl and opening his mouth again. Duo was more than happy to supply the goods.  
  
A little while later, the bowl was empty, and Duo was tipping it over to express that point to the disappointed eyes of one little boy. But Shingam only paused before looking over at Killashandra and then Quatre. "You can feed her now."  
  
Concerned by Shingam's power over Killashandra but willing to go along for now, Quatre lifted the spoon and brought it slowly to Killashandra's lips. When they didn't open, he looked into her eyes and paused. Vacant windows stood before him, tempting him to step into the void and be lost. There was something powerful-and deadly-about this little girl. The meaning of her name, "Killer of minds," brought him back to the task at hand. Then her mouth lay open, waiting for the proffered treat.  
  
Not long later, the bowl was finished, and Quatre smiled lovingly at Killashandra. "Did you like it?" He looked to Shingam for a response.  
  
The boy seemed a moment off guard before he looked to Killa, nodded, and then replied. "We liked it."  
  
Quatre chuckled, ignoring the pain the jarring had caused in his arm. "Want some more?"  
  
This time Shingam didn't have to look at Killa he only nodded his head. "Yes."  
  
"I'll get it." Trowa stood and took both of the bowls. He returned a few moments later, simple chocolate in his hands.  
  
Quatre was about to wait for Duo to finish feeding Shingam, when the boy shook his head. "You can give her the ice cream now." Taking the permission for what it was worth, Quatre followed Duo's lead and emptied the bowl in no time.  
  
Two bowls of Chocolate Chip and Chocolate Chip Mint later, Quatre paused to ask a question. "Ok, Shingam, you've had four different kinds of ice cream now. Which one did you like the best?"  
  
Shingam paused for a moment, looking at the empty bowl and then back at Quatre, a dark expression crossing his small face. "What happens if I choose wrong?"  
  
Confusion crossed the faces of the pilots before Quatre answered. "There isn't a wrong answer. I just wanted to know which one you liked the best."  
  
"If I answer wrong, what happens?" His voice was cold, a note of mistrust weighing in it.  
  
"Nothing." And then Quatre understood. Like lighting crashing into his senses, he knew why Shingam was in such a panic. "Shingam." The boy looked at him. "There isn't a wrong answer. You can pick any of the flavors you've tried. Nothing will happen if you pick the one that isn't my favorite or even Duo's favorite. Nothing bad with happen to either you or Killashandra, I promise."  
  
Shingam seemed to think on that idea for a moment before he stole a quick glance at Heero and then answered very softly. "I liked the." He paused to look at Duo. "The Chocolate Chip kind."  
  
Suddenly his body tensed as if waiting for a blow to come from any direction, and Quatre watched as Killashandra tensed with him. His heart lurched, and his empathic abilities quickly picked up on the fear coming from both children.  
  
But while the other pilots were not empathic, that did not mean they weren't aware. Duo had Shingam in his arms almost the moment Quatre had felt the fear. "Hey, Shingam, it's ok. Don't sweat it! Ya know what? Chocolate Chip is Trowa's favorite, too. Yep, it's his absolute favorite, and I hear that Quatre makes pretty good use of that knowledge." Quatre ran his hand through his hair in frustration and a small amount of relief. "Hey, Q, I'm just telling the kid what I know, that's all."  
  
"Duo!"  
  
The maniac only gave a wider smile and offered a quick wink. "See Shingam, it's no problem. In fact, this is great. See, the next time we go to the store to buy ice cream, we'll only have to buy one kind of ice cream-- Chocolate Chip. You've actually made shopping a whole lot easier. Isn't that right, Quatre?"  
  
He sensed the lead in when it was thrown to him. "Yep, a lot easier. But what about Killashandra--which type of ice cream did she like best?"  
  
With less apprehension and fear than before, Shingam turned to look at his companion. "She liked the green kind. I don't remember what it's called."  
  
Duo answered for him. "Chocolate Chip Mint. Hey, did you know that that's Heero's favorite kind? Yep, that's definitely one of his favorite things to lick, especially when it's on -"  
  
"DUO!"  
  
Duo laughed. "An ice cream cone. Yeah, see--you kids haven't had one of those yet. Just wait until we get you both to the ice cream parlor off base. You're gonna love it. Thirty-two different flavors! I heard once it had only thirty-one, but I guess someone didn't think that was enough choices. But listen, I gotta tell ya, I've been there thousands of times, and I still haven't tried every flavor. Why they don't just offer ten, I'll never know."  
  
Quatre just shook his head and glanced at Trowa. His partner sat quietly, watching the antics going on before him. Leaning over, Quatre whispered, "I kind of like that they have thirty-two different flavors; it adds variety."  
  
Trowa chuckled. "I don't know why you need variety, Beloved you always get the same kind--Chocolate Chip."  
  
Quatre felt his face flush instantly and watched in amusement as Trowa leaned back and roared heartily. He chuckled along but tried his best to keep his movements from jarring his arm further. Even so, the small amount of movement caused black spots to appear in his vision. He took a deep breath under the guise of prolonged laughter and offered a smile he was sure looked more like a grimace to his partner.  
  
"I could always get something else."  
  
Trowa shook his head. "Why, I like that one the best."  
  
Quatre shook his head and hid behind the fall of his bangs, praying for the waves of pain to wash away. When he looked up again, Killashandra was watching him. Worried, he reached out a hand to brush a piece of errant hair from her face; she did not lean into the touch.  
  
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Sally watching, Corinne-who must have come in earlier-whispering to her about something. He turned just in time to see Lady move over to the make shift kitchenette that sat, mostly unused, in the corner of the room. Turning to make his intentions known to Trowa, he moved to follow her.  
  
At the counter he watched her pull out a brand new pot. "Sally informed me the children will need to be on a near liquid diet for some time. I thought chicken soup would be adequate, not to mention warm them up for bed." Lady smiled kindly at Quatre.  
  
"I thought you wanted to question the children before they slept." He'd worried over that very idea, nervous that the children would not respond well to the interrogation.  
  
"I wanted to, the sooner we get the information, the sooner we can figure out what those terrorists were doing with them. However, Corinne doesn't think they'll respond well so soon. She seems to think they'll only become even more unresponsive if we try to question them now. In the light of that new information, I've decided to postpone the questions until she thinks they're ready. She seems to think it will be a few days."  
  
Quatre nodded, relieved that the children would have some time to adjust to their new surroundings before being questioned about their past. He knew from watching them that they weren't ready to relive their lives up to this point just yet. Not to mention he wasn't sure if he could have lasted through the interrogation without another hit. It was becoming hard to simply move his body at all.  
  
Pushing the thought again to the back of his mind, he looked to Lady and raised a questioning and humorous eyebrow as she opened a can of soup. Lady caught the look.  
  
"Please, Quatre, I was one of the world's most amazing generals, not to mention assassin and personal assistant to Treize; when in the world did I have time to learn to cook properly?"  
  
They shared a laugh before she began the process of heating up the soup. "I always wondered why Marieminna wanted to come to our apartment for dinner."  
  
She gave him a disgruntled look. "Don't push me, boy."  
  
He simply laughed and offered to stir. Behind him, Quatre heard Duo make another outrageous innuendo and thanked Allah that the children were too young to catch the meanings behind them. His best friend really was a piece of work. He tuned into the conversation just in time to hear Shingam say he didn't want any more ice cream, and neither did Killashandra.  
  
Thankfully, the soup was properly heated, and Lady poured it all into two equal bowls. Heero came over and took one, leaving the other for Quatre. Taking it in his good hand and wincing at the shift in weight, Quatre carried it over to the chair he'd vacated not ten minutes before. Killashandra's eyes stared blankly at him.  
  
Offering her yet another smile, he turned to Shingam. "This is Chicken Noodle Soup. It's very good for you. Once you finish, we'll put you both to bed. Sound good?"  
  
Shingam looked to Killashandra and then nodded his head.  
  
Again, he and Duo set about the task of feeding both children, but again, Killashandra refused to eat. It was made even more confusing, when Shingam didn't hesitate, but ate greedily. Quatre found himself yet again concerned, and he looked to Trowa for some hope of an answer; but his lover only shook his head--he had none.  
  
"Shingam, why won't Killashandra eat?"  
  
The boy paused for a moment before locking his gaze with Quatre's. "Wait."  
  
"But I thought-"  
  
"Wait."  
  
Sighing, he nodded his head and looked to Duo. The longhaired pilot nodded his head before continuing to feed the slight boy in front of him.  
  
When there was nothing left in Shingam's bowl, he paused again, and then turned to look at Killashandra. Shingam nodded his head once, and then she immediately opened her mouth. From that moment on, it seemed Killashandra would finish every bite before he could load the spoon up with more for her. She almost seemed to eat like Duo.  
  
Beside him, Trowa spoke to Shingam. "Shingam, why was Killashandra not allowed to eat before you'd finished? Were you testing to see if the food was bad?"  
  
The boy shook his head.  
  
"Then why?"  
  
A look that seemed to say that they all should know why crossed the boy's face before he looked to Killashandra and answered the question. "I eat first, and whatever's left over, Killashandra gets to eat." The statement was matter-of-fact, as if it was the most logical choice anyone would have made. All the pilots could do was stare at him.  
  
Shaking off the shock, Quatre turned his eyes to Killashandra, who sat on the table in front of him, her mouth open like a little bird; a very skinny and unhealthy little bird. It dawned on him then why she was the more malnourished of the two. With Shingam eating first, Killashandra would have been left with little to nothing to eat, especially if he was as malnourished as he so obviously was. When he looked over at Trowa, he knew his lover had come to the same conclusion. He lifted the spoon to Killashandra's waiting mouth.  
  
"But." Duo's face was a mask of confusion. "Shingam, why do you need to eat first?"  
  
Again the look crossed Shingam's face before he turned to watch Killashandra eat for a few moments, his expression softening as she continued to eat. When he spoke again, it was directed to the small child in front of Quatre. "Killa, you're doing really well. I'm proud of all the food you're eating. Good girl." She looked at him but continued to swallow the food the moment it passed her lips.  
  
Shingam turned back to Duo after a moment and answered his question. "Killa's my responsibility."  
  
Quatre couldn't contain his question any longer. "Shingam, I don't understand."  
  
"I do." Heero stepped forward, sitting on the edge of the table, very close to Shingam. The boy looked up at Heero with a mixture of awe and apprehension. Heero offered a rare smile to the child before continuing. "Shingam can't be expected to protect Killashandra or to take care of her if he isn't capable of it. So he eats first, confident in the fact that he'll at least have enough strength to take care of her. She eats what he can spare--enough to stay semi-strong. However, it's obvious they weren't fed enough, since Shingam would have needed Killashandra to stay as healthy as he could keep her. They both starved." The last sentence ended quietly as Heero-in a move few had ever seen him do-wrapped an arm around the child next to him, offering both comfort and protection. Shingam simply nodded his head.  
  
Wanting nothing more than to rip the throats out of the scientists that ran the NEO project, Quatre handed the nearly half-empty bowl of soup to Trowa and got out of his chair. Moving to lean over and meet Shingam's eyes, he waited until he had the boy's full attention. Again, out of the corner of his eye, he saw that Killashandra had stopped eating and was watching them carefully.  
  
"From now on," he began, "you don't ever have to worry about being hungry again. That's my promise to you both." He turned to catch Killa's eye. "From this day on, for the rest of your lives, you will never know what it means to be hungry or cold. You'll never want for anything. Clothes, food, shelter, warmth, home, family, from this moment on, you both will have them. You called to me, and I came for you both just as your Mother said I would; and now that you're both with me, I swear I'll never let anything happen to you. For the rest of your lives you'll be safe. I promise. I swear it in the name of Allah." He touched Shingam's stunned face, leaning over to lightly touch his lips to the child's forehead. Pulling back he caught an approving look from Heero.  
  
"You," Shingam stopped, almost afraid to continue. "We.we don't have to be hungry any-anymore?"  
  
Tears gathered in his eyes as he shook his head. "Never again, Shingam; never again." In the back of his mind he realized that food was most likely the control that had been imposed on the both of them among others. He felt a blinding fury race through him, before he got a grip on himself. By then, Trowa was again speaking to Shingam.  
  
"Are you still hungry, Shingam?"  
  
The boy looked up to Heero before looking to Duo. The braided pilot offered a reassuring smile and quick nod before Shingam looked to Trowa and offered the slightest and most hesitant nod of his head.  
  
Trowa smiled at him before standing and moving to the kitchenette; Duo followed.  
  
Scooting his chair over, Quatre began alternating spoonfuls of cooling soup to both children. He noticed both seemed to eat much slower now; as if they didn't feel the need to eat before someone came and took it all away. Heero remained where he was, Shingam still tucked safely in the crook of his arm.  
  
Nearly a half-hour later, both children had consumed three more bowls of soup. When Killashandra stopped opening her mouth for more, Shingam soon followed suit.  
  
But the constant shifting of his body to feed one child and then the other had taken its toll on Quatre. His body nearly shook with pain and the spots that jumped before his eyes seemed to grow larger by the second. Sound seemed muffled, and he knew something was not right but he refused to answer his body's call to rest; now was not the time.  
  
When Duo took the final bowl from him, he leaned back, resting his arm in his lap and briefly closing his eyes against the pain. He mentally thanked Corinne for teaching him how to block certain things from going through the link; the last thing he need was to have Trowa worried about him.  
  
Opening his eyes, he saw both Killashandra and Shingam staring at him. Concerned, he questioned Shingam. "Is everything ok?"  
  
Duo returned to his seat before Shingam answered. "We thought you said we could trust your friends."  
  
Stunned by the question, Quatre glanced at Heero before answering. "Of course you can. Why did you think you can't?"  
  
Shingam looked to Killashandra, and then turned back to him. "Why should we trust them, if you don't even trust them?"  
  
Again bewildered, Quatre shook his head at the seemingly illogical question. "I trust them, Shingam. Why do you think I don't?"  
  
Shingam cocked his head and then looked from Trowa to him. "Trowa kissed you." Not following him, Quatre nodded for him to continue.  
  
"He's important to you?"  
  
"Yes. But I trust Trowa. He's my family."  
  
"Then why won't you tell him?"  
  
"Tell him what, Shingam?"  
  
"If you trust him, why won't you tell him you're injured and in a lot of pain? Are you afraid he'll hurt you if he knows you're weak?"  
  
The question slammed into him like a punch. The fact that Shingam knew of his pain was one amazing thing, but to question if Trowa would hurt him when he was weak; wasn't that something they'd just dealt with? How was it this little boy could seem so very much like him?  
  
Before he could answer or question Shingam, Trowa was at his side, with Duo and Heero looking concerned. "Quatre, are you alright?" The concern was evident in Trowa's voice, and Quatre felt both guilt at not telling Trowa and mild anger at being discovered; now was not the time to be worrying about him.  
  
He turned away from Trowa without answering, while at the same time closing the link completely. He saw Trowa's hurt expression as his gaze shifted back to Shingam; he also noticed Corinne move quickly towards the table. He ignored them in favor of Shingam and his unanswered questions.  
  
"How did you know I was in pain?"  
  
Confused for a moment, Shingam looked to Heero before answering Quatre. "Bandages; slight limp on the opposite side of injury; noted tension in back and shoulder muscles; guarding the arm from casual contact; stress and fatigue marks around eyes; slight sweat; and I saw you wince." The boy shrugged in Heero's arms as if it was the most natural way of looking at something. "If you trust them, why didn't you tell them?"  
  
Shaking his head, Quatre tried to explain not only to Shingam, but also his lover. "It's not that I don't trust them, Shingam. I do. But right now, the most important thing is making sure that you and Killashandra are alright. Nothing else is more important. You called to me, begged me to come and help you, and that's what I'm going to do; that's the most important thing right now. My arm, my pain, it doesn't matter. Killashandra is your responsibility, but both of you are mine. Do you understand?"  
  
Next to him, he felt Trowa stand and move away from him. He swallowed hard, angry with himself for being discovered before he could explain to Trowa and sad that his lover was hurting because of him. But Shingam was nodding his head before him, indicating that he understood.  
  
"Your pain isn't important when you have to take care of someone else."  
  
Images of the horrible beatings Quatre had been forced to watch Shingam go through raced across his mind's eye. He decided against bringing that point up with the boy just yet.  
  
He turned to Killashandra, expecting to find her watching him again but instead found her tracking Trowa's movements. Quatre turned in his seat to look at Trowa.  
  
A blank expression stood stone cold on beautiful Latino features, and Quatre could almost feel the rage boiling inside Trowa. His lover rarely got angry with him. Even during the past few months of his recovery, Trowa had remained calm and for the most part, collected. With all of his available strength, he tried to make Trowa understand.  
  
"Trowa, I was going to tell you."  
  
"WHEN!?" The shout was unexpected, and Quatre couldn't help the defensive posture he took as he rose to stand in front of the children.  
  
"I wanted to wait until Shingam and Killashandra were in bed. I knew it was going to be bad, that I was going to need a stronger dose than the last one. You saw what happened after the last injection, I was out for nearly an hour. I couldn't afford to be away from them for that long-"  
  
"So you'll risk your health instead! You'll risk more pain than you've already endured?!" Trowa's eyes danced with danger, and Quatre watched as Duo stood from his chair, his stance defensive and flighty.  
  
But Quatre stood his ground, hoping to calm his beloved quickly. "It's only pain Trowa, not agony. It'll pass." He regretted the words the moment they were past his lips. Trowa's entire body tensed even further, and he took a step towards Quatre before stopping and taking a step back.  
  
Turning away from him, Trowa addressed Heero and Duo. "Will the two of you take Shingam and Killashandra to our rooms? The spare has been prepared for them already. Quatre and I will follow shortly."  
  
A wave of intense fear crashed into Quatre, and he spoke before he'd really had time to think it through. "No."  
  
Trowa spun then, cold fire burning in his eyes. "Quatre."  
  
"No. I'm not leaving them, Trowa. I won't let you separate them from me. I'll take Killashandra to our room, and then when she and Shingam have settled in, I'll take the injection and this will be done."  
  
"Quatre!" A thinly veiled rage vibrated through Trowa's normally unemotional voice.  
  
"Don't try and stop me, Trowa!"  
  
He turned to gather Killashandra up, but her look gave him pause. She wasn't looking at him, but rather Trowa--not a look of fear, but pity shone in her usually vacant eyes. The pause was enough time for Duo to intervene.  
  
"Quatre," he looked to his best friend. "If Shingam's right, and your arm's that messed up, you shouldn't be lifting a soup spoon, let alone a little girl."  
  
"Duo I'm fine. I-"  
  
"What if your arm gives out, Quatre? What if you can't support her weight?"  
  
He stopped, the idea never having crossed his mind. In quiet thought he looked at Killashandra and then at his injured arm. Regret crashed where anger had once been. He shook his head to clear it of his own stupidity before turning to look at Duo and nodding his head.  
  
Wasting no time, Duo lifted Killashandra into his arms and carried her towards the door, Heero with Shingam close behind him.  
  
Not prepared to leave the children with Duo and Heero just yet, Quatre made to follow them, only to have Trowa call his name. How could he explain his reasoning to Trowa? The rage he felt at not being able to protect his family? Instead he turned to Trowa and said, "I'm going with them. Are you coming?"  
  
He saw the defeat enter Trowa's eyes and body before the young man nodded his head.  
  
In the hallway, Quatre walked behind Heero, with Trowa and Corinne a descrete distance behind him. He'd never felt so guilty in his entire life. Of course Trowa was worried about him; it hadn't even been a full month since he'd been freed from his past; how could he expect Trowa to blindly trust that he could take care of himself? He had to make Trowa understand his reasoning--had to make him understand that he'd only been trying to protect the children. That it had nothing to do with him not trusting Trowa or even slipping back into his old pattern of protecting everyone except himself. The children were important--important to him! He had to make Trowa understand that he couldn't just abandon them.  
  
Taking a deep breath, he halted in his tracks and waited for Trowa to catch up with him; Corinne and the other two women continued on. Then they fell in line together, neither saying anything for a long awkward moment before Quatre broke the silence.  
  
"I really was going to tell you, Trowa."  
  
"You should have told me from the beginning. I'm inclined to think Shingam may have been right."  
  
Suddenly, Quatre realized his error. It was too soon after such a major change in their lives, and now that he thought on it, it had been about the same length of time that his first "relapse" had occurred. Trowa was scared he was about to fall apart again.  
  
Stopping, he grabbed onto Trowa's arm and turned him to face him. There in Trowa's eyes, Quatre saw the truth of his thoughts, and the word regret seemed like too insignificant a word to describe his feelings.  
  
He pulled Trowa to him, wrapping his good arm around his beloved's neck. Holding him impossibly close he spoke softly and clearly, hoping to get his point across and dispel Trowa's fears.  
  
"I am not falling apart, Trowa. I trust you more than the world, and you have to believe me when I say I was going to tell you. I know you worry about me all the time, afraid I'll slip again. But I'm not going to, Trowa. I know who my family is; I know whom I have to protect and who has to protect me. But these children are important to me. In ways I can't even describe to you. I don't even understand it myself sometimes. They've become a part of my family, and I will do anything to protect them, just as I'd do anything to protect you. But unlike you and I, they're only children, and they can't protect themselves or anyone else. They need me, Trowa. They need both of us. Please try to understand. It's as if they're my own children, and maybe the fact that I may never have my own makes me want to think that way, but it doesn't matter. I do. I have to protect them. But it's my trust in you-that you'll help me later when they're safe-that keeps me able to protect them. I knew you'd be angry with me for not telling you sooner, but I thought you'd understand why I had to do it. Please tell me you understand?" He pulled away, wanting to look into Trowa's eyes, wanting to see the answer as it was given.  
  
But Trowa's eyes were silent, giving away little of their owner's true feelings on the matter. With the link closed, Quatre had to rely on word alone. Trowa supplied.  
  
"I understand that the children cannot protect themselves, and that they seem to look to you for that protection. And I also understand that you feel connected to them. I knew it was only a matter of time before you placed yourself into a parental role with them. But, Quatre, you cannot do this to yourself, and you cannot do it to me! You can't expect me to piece you back together after you destroy yourself helping these children. I'd do anything for you, you know that, but don't ask me to nurse you back to health because you were being too proud or stupid to seek help when you really needed it. I know being with the children is important to you; we could have given you a lower dose, something to at least dull the pain until we had you home. Please tell me you at least can see that."  
  
Quatre nodded his head. "I considered that, Trowa, I did. But you have to admit, when you think I'm over stepping myself, you tend to get over protective. I was worried you'd say the dose was lower, only to give me the whole thing. It is something you've been known to do."  
  
With reluctance Trowa agreed. "Perhaps, but under these circumstances, it's unlikely. I do see how important they are to you. But just as you said, they may be your responsibility, but you are mine; and I'll do whatever it takes to keep you safe."  
  
"I know that, Trowa; and it's one of the reasons I'm so in love with you. No matter what stupid idea I come up with, you're always there to ground me again. But this isn't some flight of fancy. You and the children are the most important things in my life and I'll do whatever it takes to protect you--all three of you. Even if that means sacrificing my own health-"  
  
"Then you must realize, too, that you are the most important thing to me, and I refuse to allow anymore harm to come to you!" Trowa's voice was angry again. "You can't take care of the children if you're hurt, you know that. Duo even pointed that out to you. Can you not see that?" Desperation entered Trowa's voice, and Quatre cringed as he remembered hearing that same tone in their bathroom--Trowa desperately trying to reason with him through the glass of the shower.  
  
"I do see and understand. Sometimes I try too hard to overstep my own abilities. I consider myself the weakest of all five of us, and it's hard for me not to try and prove myself, to myself. I'll try to take better care and keep you from having to worry about me. I know you must be tired of that-"  
  
"I'm not tired of loving you, Quatre. Only exhausted by trying to make you realize that fact." And it was true. Quatre could see the exhaustion lines chasing across Trowa's lovely face. He wondered if they'd be there forever.  
  
"I'm sorry, Trowa. I've asked more from you than any lover has a right to. It's obvious that our relationship tends to be one sided every now and again. I want that to end, though. We've worked so hard to become real partners together, and I don't want that to end because of something as stupid as an injured arm. I promise to let you know if I'm in pain or any other type of trouble if you promise to stop being so over protective." He said the last part with a smile on his face but knew in his heart neither one of them took it as a joke. In the middle of a hallway, halfway to their room, a very important decision was being made. One that would influence the rest of their lives.  
  
Trowa shook his head back and forth. "You've changed, Quatre. You're not the same person as you were before." It was said in a whisper, as if Trowa was talking to himself, and Quatre was just overhearing. Then Trowa lifted his head and nodded once to him. "I'll try."  
  
That was it, but Quatre felt a sudden chill that the matter was not completely resolved. That and Trowa's quietly spoken words haunted his mind. Pushing the doubt away, Quatre took Trowa's hand into his own and began to move towards their room. "I'm glad we talked. I think we needed to get that cleared away. I'll tell you what--once we get in, I'll take a small hit and tuck the children in; then I'll take the rest of the dose, and we'll go to bed and won't wake up until noon. Sound good?"  
  
He watched Trowa nod silently before he keyed in the lock pass to their door and stepped inside.  
  
Things were going to be ok; they had to be. 


	6. Chapter 6

* * *  
  
When the door moved aside, Trowa watched Quatre hurry through, impatient to get to the children. Sally stood directly in front of the doorway; a hyperspray extended toward them.  
  
He heard Quatre sigh before reaching out to take the medication. He beat Quatre to it. His lover may have been right about his tendency to over protect, but more to the point was Quatre's tendency to avoid whatever would make the pain stop.  
  
He shook his head at Quatre's slight protest before adjusting the dosage to about a forth of the full amount. But as he reached for Quatre, his lover took an unconscious step back away from him. Trowa understood, he hadn't seen him lower the dosage, he'd done it too quickly--to accustomed to doing the same thing pertaining to his own medications. Sadness washed over him. Quatre really did believe that he'd give him the higher dose when he wasn't paying attention.  
  
But suddenly Quatre scoffed and shook his head before turning bright blue- green eyes on him. "Sorry about that, Trowa. Vision's getting a little spotty, and I wasn't sure what you were doing. Let me get this shirt off."  
  
He knew he should be appeased, but as Trowa pushed Quatre's hands away from the buttons on his silk shirt, he couldn't help but wonder when Quatre had ever begun doubting his actions in the first place. He tried to think back to before the past few months, but it seemed even then, Quatre had never questioned his actions or motivations. The only time he ever remembered Quatre protesting had been-  
  
"God!" A strangled gasp issued from Quatre's mouth before the blonde doubled over in pain, protecting his injured arm with the curl of his body. Trowa was supporting him immediately.  
  
"Quatre, are you alright?" Worry evident in his voice, Trowa thought about his recent switch from stoic pilot to emotional lover; he wasn't entirely sure he liked the change.  
  
After a few more gasping breaths, Quatre nodded his head weakly before standing on shaky legs and leaning heavily against him. Together, they managed to get the long sleeve over the injured arm without jarring Quatre's body further.  
  
When the shirt was off, Quatre breathed a sigh of relief before looking up at him. There was no doubt in Trowa's mind that Quatre was the most beautiful man he'd ever seen. Delicate and graceful, strong and proud, his partner was a neat package of everything he'd thought he'd never have in life. But as he took the moment afforded him, Trowa wasn't quite as certain that Quatre was as beautiful as he remembered. There were so many things different about his lover--different in both good and bad ways. What Trowa couldn't figure out was did the good outweigh the bad?  
  
Quatre's voice was a strained whisper when he finally spoke. "Maybe you should add a little more to that." He indicated the dispenser.  
  
Nodding, he shifted and adjusted the container to a third before moving it to Quatre's good arm and releasing the still-higher-than-standard dose of morphine. Quatre closed his eyes for the injection, but Trowa saw the relief enter them the moment the medication entered his system; it took about thirty seconds to activate, but Quatre obviously needed it.  
  
"Thank you, Trowa."  
  
He nodded. What more was there to say?  
  
Handing the device back to Sally, he stood beside Quatre--his lover, partner, and family, and wondered who Quatre had become.  
  
"Quatre?" Corinne approached the edge of the couch, and Quatre slowly lifted his head and offered a polite smile. "I think it only fair to inform you now that you are-as of this moment-off the duty roster indefinitely. Sally was going to put you on for light paperwork, but I've vetoed that idea."  
  
"What?! Corinne you can't. I'm fi-" With the force of an oncoming train, the morphine slammed into Quatre's system, and it was all Trowa could do to catch him before he hit the ground. The dose wasn't overly heavy, but Quatre's body had needed it so desperately it'd completely overwhelmed him. And Trowa knew that Corinne knew it would.  
  
"You told him on the cusp of the high." There was a note of awe in his voice.  
  
"Yeah, aren't I evil? This way he won't fight back. But I was serious he's off until I say otherwise." Her voice was humorous but held no note of discussion; she expected Quatre to do what he was told. Trowa nodded.  
  
"I'll remind him if he's forgotten in the morning."  
  
It must have been his voice or maybe the fact that she was an empath keyed her in, but Corinne was at his side in a moment, her eyes searching. "Trowa?"  
  
"Not now." His voice was crisp and cold; he couldn't deal with it all right now.  
  
Reluctantly, she nodded.  
  
"Why-why is it-whenever I wake up, you're-always in his mind-Corinne?" Quatre was coming around, the worst of the high having already worn off under the pain of his arm. It didn't take a genius to realize just how much pain Quatre was in.  
  
"You know me, Quatre, always looking for a challenge. Besides, Trowa has such an interesting mind to be walking around in."  
  
Quatre opened his eyes and glared at her, his voice almost threatening, "I know. It's mine. Get out of it." Trowa couldn't help the feeling that stole over him at Quatre's possessive tone. It made him feel loved and protected; it made him remember what the old Quatre had been like. He'd always felt protected, loved, and cherished, and Quatre had always made it abundantly clear that while Trowa was a free man, the rest of the world believed him to be only Quatre's. He couldn't recall the number of times he looked into a mirror and thought of himself as belonging, as being owned- in a wonderful and safe way-to the most amazing man in the world. But now as he looked at Quatre he realized the possessiveness was far and fleeting. Quatre too often needed him to be the one to offer those things; and like a good lover, he'd become what was needed of him. He felt the euphoria start to wear away.  
  
"Yes sir, oh, over possessive one. I was just making sure your fall hadn't damaged him mentally."  
  
That slammed Quatre back into reality, and he sat up as best he could before turning near panicked eyes on Trowa. And then they were gone, those feelings of love and protection Trowa had had--disappeared, replaced by Quatre's searching look of fear. He pushed the implications of that thought from his mind; now was not the time.  
  
"Trowa, are you alright? I didn't hurt you did I?"  
  
He shook his head. "I'm fine. Are you hurt?"  
  
Relaxing, Quatre scoffed again. "Even if I were, I'm not sure I'd feel it." He offered a faint smile, which Trowa returned. Shifting, he pulled them both up before steadying Quatre on his feet. It wasn't even a full minute before Quatre turned to Lady. "Where are they?" She indicated the spare room he'd had prepared for them and together they made their way over to the door before keying in the pass and stepping through.  
  
Two children sat in white tee-shirts on the cover of the bed. Trowa smiled, recognizing his own shirts. Duo caught the look.  
  
"Hey, man, it was for a good cause; and it's not as if Quatre would let you leave the house in a tee-shirt, anyway. That's more my man's downfall." Duo rolled his eyes, and Trowa felt relief at hearing Quatre chuckle. "How ya doing, Q?"  
  
Quatre nodded. "Better. We should put these tired kids to bed though, don't you think?"  
  
The double implication was there, and Duo caught the tired look in Quatre's eyes. Without hesitation Duo turned to the children. "Ok, you two rug- rats, get under the covers so Grandpa Quatre can tell you a story. I'd tell the story, but honestly, my kinds of stories are a lot funnier when everyone's drunk. Trust me."  
  
Trowa couldn't help the smile as he released Quatre, his blonde lover moving to sit on the bed now occupied by two very tired children. He watched Shingam yawn and for a moment understood why Quatre felt such love and responsibility towards them. They were alone in a world that had done nothing but hurt them, and now they looked to Quatre for some sense of comfort, it was a heady experience.  
  
He drew the connection between himself and the children instantly. Moving into the corner, he watched his lover carefully as he remembered Quatre using many of the same actions and phrases on him when Quatre had first tried to draw him from his pain-ridden past.  
  
"You know, the both of you were very brave today. I'm very proud of you."  
  
"I know that was hard to tell me, Trowa. You a very strong person to have shared that with me. I'm so glad you wanted me to know."  
  
"I know it wasn't easy for the two of you to trust me or even my friends, but you both did very, very well."  
  
"I know it's hard for you to tell me some things, Trowa. But you trusted me today with something you never have before. I'm so proud of you and thankful."  
  
"Everything is going to be alright. I'll take care of you."  
  
"Everything is going to be alright, Trowa. I'll always take care of you."  
  
"I love you both very much."  
  
"I love you, Trowa. You and never anyone else."  
  
Quatre continued to talk, but the words of his past haunted his present. He wasn't jealous of the children; how could he be? But to them, Quatre seemed so strong, so capable; and yet now, to him, Quatre seemed not even capable of taking care of himself. His mind knew that wasn't entirely true, that Quatre had said he was going to come to him; but he couldn't shake the idea that the old Quatre wouldn't have needed to come to him. The old Quatre would have never even let him know something was wrong. It was a false sense of strength and Quatre had sacrificed so much to give him that ounce of comfort, that one lack of worry. But could he honestly say he didn't wish it were like it had been? Quatre, so strong and able, willing to do and be whatever he'd needed of him. He'd seemed like a god in those days, an angel sent from heaven to give him some measure of comfort he'd never had time to realize in his short life. Why did he now look at Quatre and wish for the way things once were, where he was the one receiving the comfort and care, and Quatre was the one who gave it in abundance? What was wrong with him?  
  
"Trowa?" Quatre's soft voice crossed his troubled thoughts and he was startled to see Quatre standing before him a look of concern on his face. "Are you alright, beloved?"  
  
Concern--for him. His heart rose at the thought.  
  
He nodded his head.  
  
Quatre offered a slight smile. "Drifting away into Never-Never Land? I thought I'd taught you better than that?"  
  
He had once.  
  
"Come on, let's let them sleep." Quatre took his hand and pulled him away from the wall. Together they moved for the door; but a small voice stopped them in their tracks.  
  
"Trowa?"  
  
Together they turned at Shingam's hesitant and quiet call.  
  
"Yes, Shingam?"  
  
"Sometimes it's hard to decide which one's better--the past or the future."  
  
Eyes wide in shock, Trowa nearly took a step back as his earlier thoughts raced through his mind. He glanced quickly to Quatre, praying the link did not open and expose his traitorous thoughts to his lover.  
  
For a moment, Quatre stood stock still before glancing at him. And for the first time in his life, Trowa was thankful for the bangs that hid half of his face--thankful for a way to hide from his lover's questioning gaze.  
  
But Quatre had only been looking for a note of understanding, and when he'd supplied none, the blonde turned back to the boy who lay in the bed, one white haired girl wrapped around his body, watching them both with crystal clear green eyes.  
  
"What do you mean, Shingam? Trowa and I don't understand."  
  
The boy shook his head, indicating there was nothing more to say on the matter. But his next lines both stunned and relieved them all.  
  
"Quatre? In the morning, you can talk to Killa. I'll still answer for her, but you can talk to her. And.and you can call her Killa. Just you, no one else." His voice seemed to dare the others to protest, but Quatre only nodded his head and offered a warm smile to the boy.  
  
"Thank you, Shingam. I'll see you both in the morning. Goodnight."  
  
Together, they exited the dim room and entered the sitting room. The three women and Wufei sat in chairs surrounding the coffee table Quatre had purchased in Baghdad; the piece, being many thousands of years old, held carvings of forgotten ceremonies and a depiction of heaven. "Trowa, we need to surround ourselves with as many pictures of heaven as we can; it may be the only way we'll ever be allowed to see it." At the forgotten memory, Trowa tightened his grip about Quatre's shoulders before guiding him towards the empty couch.  
  
Once seated, Sally wasted no time.  
  
Handing him the injector, she indicated Quatre's good arm before his blonde lover could protest. "Hit him with the rest of it. And, Quatre, don't you dare complain. I'm so royally pissed at you! You have no idea."  
  
"Sally, I didn't mean-"  
  
"Not now, Quatre! Anything you say will only tick me off even more."  
  
Nodding reluctantly, Quatre didn't protest when Sally gingerly-but with more force than necessary-lifted Quatre's injured arm up and into the light. She was searching for the bandage's edge by the time Trowa had the morphine racing through Quatre's system.  
  
Turning amused eyes on him, Quatre commented. "Why, Trowa, if I didn't know any better, I'd think you wanted to knock me out with that thing." He offered a returning smile, but even to him it seemed dry and raw.  
  
He heard Sally's exclamation of "Finally," before he saw her unwrapping the bandages. He turned back to Quatre, feeling a sense of needing to comfort his partner. "The children seem well; like they're adjusting."  
  
Quatre nodded. "I don't think it will take quite as-"  
  
"SHIT!"  
  
Surprised by Sally's uncharacteristic outburst, the entire room turned to her. What Trowa saw made his stomach lurch.  
  
Sally held Quatre's arm with the utmost care now. The bandages had been peeled away only to reveal a sickening sight. An obvious secondary infection had claimed Quatre's arm, and it was swollen, the white blisters broken, weeping discolored fluids.  
  
He heard Quatre's groan before the blonde turned away from his infected arm and into Trowa's shoulder. "I hate this."  
  
Bringing up his hand that was not wrapped about Quatre's shoulder, Trowa covered Quatre's eyes and leaned down to whisper quietly into his hair. "It'll be alright, Quatre. It'll be alright." His lover nodded before pulling back. Sally took advantage of the moment.  
  
"There is no way in hell this could even be considered bearable! Damn it, Quatre! You can't keep doing this to yourself!" Trowa couldn't have said it better.  
  
"I know, Sally. I didn't think it was-"  
  
"That's right, you didn't think! This isn't something you can play at, Quatre this is your life we're talking about! This type of infection gets people killed by their own stupidity! Damn it!"  
  
"Sally, I'm sor-"  
  
"Growup, Quatre, and start thinking about the people who are being forced to take care of you!"  
  
The words stung Quatre brutally. He could feel the self contempt slam against the barriers of the closed link. Try as he might, though, Trowa couldn't seem to feel much sympathy towards his lover. Sally had a point-- one he'd tried not to dwell on since this whole mess had begun.  
  
Then, like a wave of warm air, Trowa felt the morphine cascade against the link, washing against it and threatening to crash it down. In his arms, Quatre breathed a great sigh of relief before dropping his head against Trowa's shoulder and surrendering to the narcotic.  
  
Worry for his partner kept Trowa's free hand brushing lightly across alabaster skin, his fingers laying tracks through sun-spun streaks. He wasn't ready to let Quatre go just yet; he wasn't ready to face his own traitorous thoughts at the moment.  
  
He didn't realize Corinne had moved to stand in front of him until she'd lain her hand on his knee. Annoyed at being startled yet again, he glared up at her.  
  
She offered him a weak smile. "Feeling a little confused?"  
  
He pulled back into the couch as if slapped. It angered him to think she'd been in his mind without his permission. He was about to say so when she held up a hand to stop him.  
  
"I know what you're thinking, and it's not true. People give off emotions all the time, even when they don't want to. The only reason Quatre hasn't picked up on it yet is he's too preoccupied with those two children and his arm being eaten alive. But he's going to notice soon enough. Question is: what do you want to do about it?"  
  
He saw Duo sit up in his perch on Heero's lap before he turned to look down at Quatre's deep breathing form. He shook his head; he didn't know the answer.  
  
Warm fingers brushed his face before Corinne brought his eyes to meet hers. "First off, Quatre is in no danger of slipping. He isn't, and the sooner you get that though your head, the better. He knows whom he can trust-- knows without a shadow of a doubt that it's you. And he knows whom he needs to protect: his family. But what you're just starting to figure out is that Quatre's added those two children in there into his family. He didn't ask you--didn't ask if you wanted to be a father for them, but it's what he expects. It isn't right, and by no means does he even have the right to expect that from you, but the fact of the matter is, he does. And you've never had family before, Trowa it's only natural that you'd shy away from it.  
  
"Listen to me. Quatre sees himself as their protector--a father figure, if you will. Is he making up for not having his own children--making up for his own father's failures? No doubt. But he's not going to slip. He hasn't forgotten that you're there to take care of him; he's just unwittingly taken advantage of it. And maybe some of it's your fault; by not telling him the things going on inside your head, he doesn't know what you want or need right now. But you're both making some really bad choices, and if you don't straighten it out soon, you're going to collapse under the weight of the age-old communication problem. Got it?"  
  
He did. He understood that Quatre expected things he wasn't sure he could give, and at the same time realized Quatre had no way of knowing. But how could he explain to Quatre all that he felt when even he didn't understand it all? And more to the point, how could he tell him that he loved him more than life itself but wasn't sure who Quatre was anymore--wasn't sure if he was in love with him?  
  
He shook his head at those thoughts.  
  
"Trowa, we've spent so much time working on all of Quatre's problems that we neglected to really address how all of this has affected you. I'm as guilty as they come, focusing all of my energy on straightening out Quatre's life I forgot to include all of it." She smiled, indicating that he was the "it." "Ok, here's what we're going to do. Quatre's off the roster, I already told you that. But as of right now, so are you. Officially, we'll have Sally pull you off to care for Quatre; unofficially, I want to see you in my office at nine AM. You can't expect to explain how you feel to Quatre unless you know for yourself."  
  
Corinne's continued astuteness amazed him; she really was the best.  
  
Nodding his head, he turned to look for confirmation from Lady. The beautiful woman only rolled her eyes. "Please give me a little credit, Trowa. I've managed to pull Duo off the roster not only for three-day hangovers, but weeklong recovery time from some of his and Heero's more adventurous, couplings. I can pull you off the roster to take care of your sick partner." She offered a wink, which he returned with a smile of his own.  
  
Duo's voice crossed the room, a strange sound of edginess adding to the humor. "Great, now that that's settled.Heero, let's go see if we can earn a week off again."  
  
"Maxwell, I'm on to your tricks, so don't even try it." Lady offered a glaring look before she strode to the door. Turning back, she gave Trowa another smile. "It does seem sometimes to never get better but I do promise, it will." And with that she was gone.  
  
A little while later, Sally rewrapped Quatre's arm and made Trowa promise to have Quatre come by the infirmary for another round of antibiotics and the last of the burn therapy. He'd promised and then she and Wufei left, the Shenlong pilot offering a clasp of the shoulder in passing.  
  
Corinne left not long after extracting a promise to meet him in her office at nine the next morning. Then there was only Heero and Duo left. He watched Duo's questioning face before Heero spoke. "If you need us to help in any way, you know you can count on us. Do you want myself or Duo to come by tomorrow morning while you're with Corinne?"  
  
Trowa shook his head. "Sally said something about Quatre sleeping until the afternoon. I'm sure he won't wake up while I'm gone. But thank you."  
  
Nudging Duo off his lap, Heero stood and moved across the few feet to kneel in front of Trowa. "If you need me, I'm here." Nodding his thanks, Trowa accepted the offer for what it was: a shoulder to cry on, one that would never tell a soul.  
  
"Trowa," Duo's voice cut through the comfortable silence. "That stuff Corinne was talking about--I'm not going to pry or anything-it's none of my business-but if you and Quatre really do need some time to.work through some stuff--well, Heero and I'd be more than happy to watch the kids for a while. You know, as long as you need. Actually, they're kind of cute for little rug-rats. I can see why Quatre's gotten so attached to them all of a sudden. Anyway, you'll let us know."  
  
Trowa nodded. "Thank you."  
  
"Oh sure, you know me--a regular helping kinda guy." Duo stood then, moving to Heero's side. Together they glanced once more at him before letting themselves out. Trowa closed his eyes, letting the plaguing doubt crash against the black backdrop of his eyelids.  
  
"Trowa?" Stirring in his arms, Quatre tried to sit up.  
  
"It's alright, Quatre. The children are safe. Everything is alright."  
  
"Trowa," Quatre struggled against the fog his mind floated in. "It's different now, isn't it?"  
  
Not sure if Quatre really knew what he was talking about, Trowa answered as best he could. "Yes, different."  
  
"Is that bad.Trowa?"  
  
He paused, not knowing how to answer, not knowing if there really was an answer.  
  
"I don't know, Quatre. I don't know." 


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 15  
  
A sudden and painful weight landed squarely on his stomach, and Quatre was sitting up, yelping at the throbbing pain in his arm and the tiny razor claws that were digging past the bed sheets and into his stomach. Coughing at the scratchiness in his throat, he gently lifted Star from her death like grip and placed the kitten neatly on the floor. The next thing he did was grab the hyperspray next to the bed.  
  
Fifteen minutes later, once the worst of the high had worn off, he gently maneuvered himself out of bed and into the bathroom. He heard the soft tinkle of the bell that rested against Star's collar, a trinket Trowa had picked up a few weeks ago. His partner had awoken one morning and nearly stepped on Star, who'd been trying to follow him into the living room. From that moment on, Star had worn the bell, announcing her exact location.  
  
Lifting the kitten with his good arm, he placed her on the counter where he knew she's stay until he'd shaved and finished the rest of his morning ritual. Aimlessly, she paced the countertop, meowing softly for the attention she knew Quatre would give her. Absently he stroked her white fur before reaching for his toothbrush.  
  
Still brushing his teeth, Quatre walked back into the bedroom and looked at the half-made bed. Trowa was already up. The thought settled oddly in his consciousness as he recalled that today was Saturday, and all the pilots would be relaxing at home. Most days it was hard enough to get Trowa out of bed, but for him to have awoken at-he checked his watch-a quarter to ten- -it was almost unheard of.  
  
Not completely satisfied but willing to wait for the answers, Quatre returned to the bathroom before he opted to forgo the shower because of his bandages, and brushed his light blonde hair with a few quick strokes. Lifting Star carefully, he set her down and moved to the door, waiting for the tiny ball of fur to exit.  
  
"Why your highness, I'm afraid a bath just isn't in the stars for you today. I think you'll just have to make do until Trowa gets over his last attempt at giving you a bath. You naughty kitty, I don't even think you care that poor Trowa insisted I take care of each and every one of those mean scratches you left all over him. You have no consideration, Ms Star. You should be ashamed." Looking at him with a very kitten-like expression, Star only meowed and followed Quatre to the bedroom door. "Well, little missy, we have company now, so you better be on your best behavior."  
  
The door panel moved aside to show the brightly-lit living room. And there, sitting on the couch watching him, was Killashandra, the white tee shirt her only attire. The light of the sun bounced off her snow white, mussed curls, adding a-fairy-in-the-sunlight look to her--that was if she hadn't looked so much like a waif.  
  
Smiling, Quatre moved to the seat beside her. She followed him with her eyes before turning her body to face his once he'd sat down next to her. Star jumped onto the couch then, and Killashandra allowed the kitten to crawl into her lap. She looked puzzled for a moment before she ran her small hand lightly over Star's white fur.  
  
"I think you've just made a new friend, Killa. Star doesn't normally like strangers. In fact, Heero came over once, and Star wouldn't come out of the bathroom the entire time." The girl seemed to ignore him now, engrossed solely in running her hands through Star's long coat of white fluff.  
  
Reaching down, Quatre rubbed a finger under Star's chin, knowing the action would cause the little kitten to purr; he wasn't disappointed. At once the kitten began to vibrate in that way that often caused Trowa to suddenly laugh out of nowhere. Quatre smiled as he remembered finding Trowa on his back, Star perched on his chest. His Trowa had been laughing, really laughing, at the soft vibrations.  
  
But as Quatre watched worriedly, Killashandra pulled both of her hands away and leaned back from the kitten in fear. Quatre quickly moved to reassure her. "Killa, it's ok. Look." He took her small hands in his own and brought them back to brush lightly over the still purring Star. "She won't hurt you. That sound--it's a good sound; it means she's happy. If she's purring, that means she wants you to pet her more. Here, like this." Softly he stroked their hands across Star's extremely happy form. Again and again, he traced their hands, until finally he let hers go and watched as she continued.  
  
She seemed so small, so helpless and dependent--a little lost girl, too terrified by the world to ask for help. Her hands had been so tiny in his own--delicate--like fine china; and the thought that she needed him ran though his head over and over. She and Shingam needed him, and he wasn't going to let them down.  
  
Smiling to himself at the beautiful picture Killashandra and Star made, he brushed an errant curl from her face and tucked it behind her ear. He watched her for a while longer--just watching the rhythmic movement of her hands.  
  
"You know, Killa, you and Star have almost the same hair color. I think it's the most beautiful shade I've ever seen. It's very pretty." But it was like speaking to someone who wasn't there. Killashandra didn't acknowledge his presence after that first initial look; and a while later he moved from the couch to the spare room to check on Shingam.  
  
The boy lay where he'd been the night before. His usual stone cold expression seemed less severe in sleep, more like that of any five year old boy. Quatre watched with fascination at the gentle rise and fall of his young charge's chest; he couldn't help the sigh of relief that passed from his lips; they really were safe now.  
  
Shutting the door behind him, he moved back to the couch and watched Killashandra play with Star. The kitten really did not like strangers, and he was relieved that she seemed to have taken so well to the small girl.  
  
Standing he moved to the console on the wall and keyed in his code. "Locate Barton, Trowa." He waited as the tracker searched the complex for his early rising partner.  
  
"Barton, Trowa is unavailable."  
  
"Unavailable?" Not understanding the machine's response, he repeated the inquiry before receiving the exact same answer. More than a little worried now, Quatre opened the link and waited for Trowa's answering presence. He received none.  
  
Nervous, Quatre moved to the couch, only to find Killashandra had abandoned Star to watch him with focused attention. Gathering her to him, Quatre debated leaving her in the room with Shingam but decided against it, feeling more comfortable having the small child with him.  
  
Keying the unlock code into the doorway, Quatre was stunned to see Duo-hand poised over the keypad-directly in front of him.  
  
"Whoa man, you totally scared me! It's too early to be doing that, Quatre, and on a Saturday no less!"  
  
"Duo, what are you doing here? And what are you doing awake?" The second question seemed more important than the first. He and Heero shared a love of the morning, while Trowa and Duo preferred the late hours of the night. They'd had to threaten to leave Duo at more than one club around two in the morning--more than once.  
  
"Oh, you know. I just thought I'd drop by."  
  
"Duo, it's barely ten o'clock. You don't even get up until noon, and you know Trowa doesn't get up until around eleven. What are you doing up so early?"  
  
"What is this, the third degree? Can't your best friend just drop by for an early morning cup of tea?"  
  
"Is my best friend dying?"  
  
"Um, no?"  
  
"Then no, he can't just stop by at ten in the morning for a cup of tea. It's physically impossible for him." Quatre smiled at the joke and moved aside for Duo to enter. "You don't happen to know where Trowa is, do you?"  
  
Duo was known for hiding his discomfort behind the mask of a jester, but Quatre had learned to read Trowa's often minute facial expressions; the slight tensing in Duo's shoulders told him all he needed to know.  
  
"Where is he, Duo?" Killashandra still wrapped in his arms, he looked expectantly at his friend, waiting for an answer.  
  
Turning slightly, Duo reached out and took the child from his arms and set her on the floor. Together they watched her move back towards the living room, only to sit next to the coffee table and again play with Star.  
  
"So the manic kitten's taken to her, has she?"  
  
"Duo, what do you know?"  
  
He watched his friend take in a deep breath before giving a nod and moving towards the couch. Quatre followed close behind him. After pouring them each a cup of tea, Duo moved to sit next to Quatre; in silence they watched Killashandra play with the feisty kitten.  
  
"Shingam still sleeping?"  
  
He nodded. "I checked on him a little while ago. He doesn't look so.severe when he's sleeping."  
  
Duo nodded his head a few times. The next moment of silence was not so comfortable.  
  
"Duo, what's going on, and where's Trowa?"  
  
"Can't you, ya know, sense him or something?"  
  
He only wished he could. The alarming turn of events had the back of his neck prickling.  
  
"He's-he's not allowing his half of the link to open. I'm worried about him."  
  
Again, Duo nodded his head a few times. "He's cool, Q. Actually that's why I'm really here. Trowa's off doing something, and I decided we could have some quality 'friend' time together. You know, talk or something; we haven't really had a chance to do that much." There was a note of sadness in Duo's voice, and Quatre had to agree that they'd had very few occasions to just hang out together since this whole mess had started.  
  
"I'm sorry things have been so convoluted lately. But with the children and-"  
  
"See, Quatre, that's what I'm talking about! It's always something with you!" Taken aback by Duo's harsh tone, Quatre watched speechlessly as Duo stood and moved over to the window. "These kids--I know they're important to you, but, man, I think you've gotten your priorities all screwed up! I mean, poor Trowa's a mess and-"  
  
"What do you mean, 'a mess'?" A thinly veiled panic settled over him and Quatre nearly rose from his seat.  
  
"Relax. Just sit there and let me bitch you out in peace." He waited until Quatre had settled back into the couch before continuing. "Ok, here's the deal. Trowa went to see Corinne-"  
  
"What?!"  
  
"I said shut up and let me talk! Don't make me gag you in front of the kid!" He gestured wildly towards Killashandra, who was still acting as if they didn't even exist. "Now listen. Trowa went to see Corinne. Last night, after you pulled that arm bullshit, Trowa went all quiet and scary. Corinne must have picked up on something because she started talking to him about stuff I didn't understand. Next thing I know she starts making sense, and I start getting totally pissed off at you!" He nearly slammed his coffee mug down to make his point.  
  
"What-what did I do?"  
  
"Oh don't pull that innocent bullshit on me Quatre. I'm you're best friend- -give a guy a little credit. That stunt you pulled last night-I don't think you've really had a chance to think it through yet. So why don't you just sit there nice and quiet like and realized what an asshole you were, not only to Trowa, but everyone else who's helped you these last few months!"  
  
Not knowing what to say at Duo's uncharacteristic anger, Quatre just sat there dumbfounded. Duo didn't make him sit long.  
  
"Nothing? Can't figure it out? Let me explain. Oh man, where should I start? Oh, ok, how about I just start numbering them off for you? No objections? Good. One: you drag the lot of us into the depths of outer space to track down two kids who may have been genetically created to kill us! Two: you somehow manage to get Trowa to bring said kids back to Earth to live in your spare bedroom. Three: did you even ask if Trowa wanted two kids running a muck in his stuff? Nope, didn't think so. Four: not only do you get injured getting the kids, but then you lie about the pain. Great confidence booster for the rest of us, ne Quatre? Five: don't even get me started about last night! If I was Trowa I would have pounded some sense into you and made you suffer. As it is, you got off way too easy, man, and you know why? Because Trowa's too afraid to say a single thing to you; he's too terrified out of his mind that you'll slip again and take a one way trip off a building! Stop and think for just five seconds about what you've put the rest of us through! Damn it!"  
  
Falling silent, Duo looked away from him in disgust and stared out the window. But Quatre didn't have that luxury; his mind raced with the things Duo had told him, the emotions he'd unwittingly showed him.  
  
He'd just assumed that Trowa wanted to find the children--that they all had. He'd been so adamant about it for weeks; they nearly left the same day they'd figured out where the children were. But had he missed something? Obviously! Duo had just told him-in no uncertain terms-that the others had not intended to search out the children. His mind reeled at the idea that Trowa had not wanted the children to stay with them. He'd just assumed-and therein lay the problem.  
  
He saw it crystal clear, like a light being turned on in his head. He'd assumed too much, took for granted too much. When Trowa had offered no protest to his plans of having the children stay with them, he'd foolishly assumed that that was what Trowa wanted as well. But here was his best friend, telling him he'd messed up. But why hadn't anyone said anything?  
  
"If-if that's all true, then why didn't you tell me sooner, before the children were here? Why didn't anyone tell me?"  
  
"What the hell did you expect us to say? We're still all in the same boat as Trowa! Quatre, the last time you supposedly 'recovered' you lasted about a month before trying to off yourself with a razor blade; none of us are willing to run the risk of that happening again! God, Quatre, think!" Fury raced behind Duo's eyes, and Quatre had to look away from what he saw there.  
  
After a moment he tried again. "I'm not going to fall apart."  
  
"Yeah, that's what we thought the last time, too, but you did. And I'm not blaming you for it. You couldn't help it. But, Quatre, if you'd just stop to think for one minute, you'd have realized we've all been pussyfooting around you for the last month, holding our breaths, waiting for you to freak out again-"  
  
"I'm not going to freak out!"  
  
"More bullshit! What the Hell do you call that stunt you pulled last night, huh? You lied, Quatre, not just to Sally, or me, but you lied to Trowa. You lied to the guy you promised to stop lying to! What do you expect him to think? What, that you were just having a bad fucking day?! You scared the shit out of him. The poor guy was beside himself after you had to be conveniently doped up into oblivion. Now you listen to me. I watched your man look almost as lost and scared as the night he had to nearly rape you! You do the math, Quatre. You fucked up big time, Q, and Trowa's the one who's going to suffer for it!"  
  
Quatre dropped his head into his hands, defeat coursing through him. Duo was right. He'd withheld the truth from Trowa, hoping to protect the children, and all he'd ended up doing was terrifying his friends and hurting Trowa in the process. He felt the old feelings of unworthiness wash over him before he pushed them away. He was worthy of Trowa, but not if he acted like this!  
  
"I'm-I'm sorry, Duo. You're right. I didn't think things though last night. All I saw was Shingam and Killashandra, and I ignored everything else. I didn't consider how my actions would affect everyone else.  
  
"And you're right about Trowa. I took advantage of him last night, and even before that. When he didn't protest my search for the children, I just assumed he wanted them as well. I'm not excusing my actions, but like you said, none of you have really said anything about my.obsession with getting them home safely. I didn't realize you didn't want them here-"  
  
"Hey, that's not what I said." Duo had calmed down considerably and now moved to sit next to Quatre on the couch. "I said you didn't ask us. I didn't say we don't want them here. It's strange, not knowing if that cute little girl is going to brain fry us while we're sleeping, but that doesn't mean we don't look at her and not want to help her and Shingam. And yeah, maybe you're right about the whole don't ask don't tell thing we've had going on for the last few weeks. So maybe what we need to do is some good, old-fashioned, damage control." He smiled at Quatre, a sight that caused the blonde to relax a little.  
  
"What do you suggest?"  
  
"Well, for starters, I'm telling you exactly what I think of you from now on." He smiled to show his joke. "Secondly, you are sitting down with your man and hashing this thing out. The two of you need to sit down, and you gotta explain to Trowa that it's ok if he screams and throws things at you every now and then." Quatre chuckled at the image that presented. "Quatre, the most important thing right now is that you never, ever pull a stupid stunt like that again. It's too soon after that whole my-mind-is-a- piece-of-devious-Swiss-cheese, thing. You're going to give us all heart- attacks if you keep this up."  
  
He nodded. "I understand. And you need to promise to tell me when I do something that upsets you. From now on, no catering to me. I'm fine; Corinne's even said so. My mind is fairly hole-free, and I'm working on the ones that are still left. I'm not going to break."  
  
"Yeah, I'd say after the tongue lashing I just gave you, you would have been a pile of goo by now if your head wasn't securely fastened. So good-- now that we've gotten that all cleared up, I suggest you sit there like a good boy, wait for Trowa to come home, and then drag his sorry ass out and beg him for forgiveness."  
  
Flinching at Duo's return to his problem with Trowa, Quatre nodded. "You don't have any idea what he's talking to Corinne about, do you? He's been so adamant about us talking together. Duo, I've told him every single thing that's been wrong with me for the last twenty years. I have been talking to him. Last night was probably the very first time I've withheld any information from Trowa about myself for a long time. I don't understand why all of a sudden he's telling me I've changed and then talking to Corinne at nine o'clock in the morning! I mean, the man doesn't even start to roll over in his sleep until at least ten!"  
  
"Calm down, Quatre. Look, maybe it's just something Trowa can't talk to you about. Just like there's some stuff you don't tell him. Hey, calm down. I heard you tell me you've told him about everything, but I doubt you mean--everything! I told you already, Corinne and Trowa started talking about something I couldn't follow before she started reassuring him that you were a real dick but hadn't slipped off the beaten path. I'm sure they're talking about that. Anyway, when he gets here you can ask him. In the mean time, I've got two suggestions for you. One, go get something to eat before you have to go into Sally's den of medical horrors and endure the dermal-regenerator and lose your lunch; two, leave the rug-rats with me, and you and Trowa work these kinks out. Go it?"  
  
He nodded. Duo was right, and he was grateful they'd had the "talk." Now all that was left was talking to Trowa. He had a sudden sinking feeling that it wasn't going to be as simple as he wanted it to be.  
  
* * *  
  
"Decide what you want, Trowa. You can't have it both ways. You either want Quatre back the way he was, or you want him to continue to be the man he's become."  
  
"Corinne, it isn't up to me. Quatre's already decided who he is; what I need to do is figure this all out."  
  
"Nope. Wrong. What you don't seem to understand is Quatre will become anything you want him to be. You wanted him to get better, to come to you when he needed you, and now he does. If you want it the other way, back to before, when Quatre told you everything was ok and took care of you without any thought for himself; then all you have to do is tell him that. He'll become what you want him to be."  
  
"That's absurd! I want Quatre to be healthy; I want him to be happy and himself. Besides, he's already become the person he's supposed to be. He fought all his demons, and this is the man he is. I have to deal with that."  
  
"Are you just pulling these idiotic things out of the air?! Quatre will conform to whatever you want him to be. I don't know how many times I've already told you: the guy lives for you! You die, he's not going to wait around for eighty years to follow you; he's going right behind you. Get the idea? If you don't like the new Quatre, the one who tells you his faults, admits his weaknesses and expects a measure of compassion in return, then tell him, and I guarantee you in less than a day you'll have your old lover back. For how long, I'm not sure. It's too hard to tell right now if his desire to please you is greater than his desire to never go back to the way things were. I suppose I could talk to him about it-"  
  
"No. You won't." Trowa's voice was deathly still, and the rage and confusion that raced through him was barely held in check.  
  
The session had started out with them discussing the events of the night before. Corinne took over a half an hour to explain the ins and outs of why Quatre was not about to slip. Their discussion had turned heated when Corinne had felt Quatre flair the link, only to find that Trowa did not answer. She'd questioned his motives, and when he hadn't been able to completely explain, she'd offered to take a look for him. He'd been reluctant to allow her to sift through his emotions, especially when he didn't know what they truly were; but that very thought had prompted him to allow the scan; he needed to know the truth. And it hadn't been pretty.  
  
She hadn't been upset with him at first, explaining that it was normal for people to want things to go back to what they thought was "normal." Corinne explained-twice-that his feelings of being lost around Quatre were valid.  
  
Before that fateful day in the conference room, when Quatre had told his twenty-nine sisters where to go, Trowa had been the one happily basking in all of Quatre's affection. He'd never wanted for anything, and his partner portrayed a strong and competent man that was capable of conquering the world, let alone taking care of him. But all of that changed. Quatre began to need him in ways he'd never been needed before, and suddenly he'd been dropped into the capacity of "Quatre Caretaker", and he hadn't been ready. But he'd dumbied his way thought it, giving to Quatre blindly all that he'd had. Corinne explained that it was only natural of him to expect that when Quatre got better, things would go back to the way they'd been.  
  
But that wasn't natural--wasn't even allowable! Trowa would die before putting Quatre back into the position that had caused him to literally try and kill himself. Did he look at Quatre and see a different person than the man he fell in love with? Yes! Did he wish Quatre was that strong and powerful person he'd pretended to be before? Yes! Did he love the new and healthy Quatre? Of course! Was he, in, love with him? God, he didn't know.  
  
"Trowa, listen to me. Having feelings of doubt is one thing, being confused and scared about the way things have turned out is another, but you'd better think long and hard about what you want. Because whatever you decided is what Quatre's going to do. You see him as weak now, and that's alright. Compared to the way he was, you have every right to feel that way. But in time you'll learn that in fact Quatre's a much stronger person than he was before; but to be that stronger person, you have to help. Understand? This isn't a one way street anymore. The both of you have to participate, or you're not going to get anywhere but stuck in the mud.  
  
"You both need to sit down and decide what you both want. Trowa! I understand that; I know you would never intentionally harm Quatre. But guess what buster? The two of you are linked, and it's only a matter of time before Quatre catches on to the fact that you're not satisfied. And honestly, Trowa, what do you think he's going to do? Just say to hell with it and keep going? No. He's going to stop and think back to the last time you were really happy, and you know what he's going to find? Yep, the Quatre of eight months ago; and you're no fool, Trowa, you can figure the rest out."  
  
Corinne sat back in her chair, arms crossed. She regarded him with a cold expression that spoke volumes to him; Corinne thought he was going to destroy Quatre all over again. And suddenly Trowa didn't know if she was wrong.  
  
Defeated, he slumped into the chair and brought his hand to his face. Closing his eyes, he willed the traitorous thoughts from his mind, begged the last decent part of himself to think of Quatre first, to love more than he needed to be loved. And for the first time in a very long time, Trowa felt silent tears fall from his eyes. What kind of monster was he?  
  
They sat in silence for a long moment, Corinne long since looking regretful but unwilling to take back the truth. He continued to stare into nothing, not even bothering to berate himself anymore. He knew what he was.  
  
A sudden box of Kleenex was pushed into his line of sight, and he took the offered tissue, drying his eyes.  
  
"If you could make Quatre any way you wanted him to be--if you could form him from clay and make the perfect partner, what would he be like? What qualities would he have?"  
  
Trowa stared at her blankly.  
  
"For example, would he be tall or short?"  
  
Thinking the question ludicrous, Trowa shook his head.  
  
"Come on, Trowa. If you could design the perfect Quatre to spend the rest of your life with would he be tall or short? There isn't a wrong answer."  
  
Hesitantly, he answered. "Short."  
  
"Ok, good. Now, what color hair would he have? Really, you can give him whatever color you'd like."  
  
With less hesitation than before, "Blonde."  
  
"Why blonde?"  
  
Confused he shrugged. "I like him blonde."  
  
"Good answer. Ok, now would he be, skinny or fat?"  
  
"Somewhere in between."  
  
"What color eyes?"  
  
"Same. Blue. Clear blue."  
  
"Rich or poor?"  
  
"Doesn't matter."  
  
"But if you had to choose."  
  
"I suppose rich."  
  
Corinne nodded. "It's a lot easier to be taken care of when there's money to be had, isn't it?"  
  
He nodded, but now utterly confused as to what Corinne was getting at.  
  
She continued. "Ok, so we're looking at a short, blonde, blue eyed, not skinny and not fat Quatre who's still rich. What about sex, male or female?"  
  
Stunned, Trowa watched Corinne watch him. Finally he offered a weak smile. "Male."  
  
"I think you're lying."  
  
He looked at her confused.  
  
"I think half of the things you just said were lies, and I doubt you even know you were doing it. For example, I doubt you would make Quatre short if you had the power to change that, and I also doubt you'd have him between skinny and fat. Instead I think you'd make him tall, gigantic, and heavy set, not fat, but stout, imposing. And would you like to know why?"  
  
He didn't have to nod she was going to tell him.  
  
"Because the way you described him, he can't protect you from that haunting sound that always seemed to come first. The tinkle of broken glass before the flaps of your tent were ripped open, and one of the members of that mercenary team walked through and raped you."  
  
Trowa's heart stopped, the blood dying cold in his veins.  
  
"Short, non-muscular, rich guys usually tend to just buy expensive sports cars and be done with it. They don't rely on muscle to accomplish things. But you've only known one type of protection, Trowa. If it isn't done by force, then it's rarely done. And Quatre knew this, knew it was what you wanted. So he ignored the car, and instead lied to you and made you think he was capable of giving you all the comfort and safety without really needing any back. But his lies caught up with him, and he's not that strong capable person he told you he was. That's what you have to deal with, Trowa. You have to decide if you can move beyond the lies and broken promises to start something new. We spent all that time getting Quatre to trust you that we forgot to make sure that you could trust him. If you could handle the change in seeming protection."  
  
Stunned at Corinne's bluntness and frightened by the picture she painted, Trowa sat silently for a moment, analyzing and shuddering at the realization that she was so very right. He tried to protest the one thing that sounded off. "I do trust him, Corinne. I love Quatre more than life itself."  
  
"You know what? I love chocolate, too, but I'm not prepared to spend the rest of my life loving a Snickers Bar. I love chocolate, but it doesn't mean I'm in love with chocolate. Catch the difference?"  
  
He nodded. It had been the same thing he'd been thinking about, and it terrified him.  
  
Corinne sighed. "Trowa, I know you love Quatre; and more importantly you know you love him. And it's ok to wonder if he's going to be there when you need him--if he can offer you the kind of love and affection you need. The problem is you know he can, and you're still floundering. He is never, not going to need you again. For the rest of your lives together, Quatre is going to need you when he needs help-need you to love him and show him. And in return, he'll help you when you need it and love you as much as you love him. But it's a partnership; you both have to give to make it work. Up until this point, Quatre's either given all of himself to you, or you've given all of yourself to him; the two of you have never given at the same time. Now you have to learn to do that, and it's a scary and confusing thing; the lines get blurred, and people get hurt and angry sometimes; but I promise you, Trowa, it's worth it in the end."  
  
He nodded. "I want to find a way to settle this. I told Quatre I'd never leave him, and I meant it. I don't care how I feel, I will never leave him, ever."  
  
"Then it's even more important that we get the two of you straightened out. In that light, you and I are about to become worst enemies. You are now officially my patient, and I expect you to see me on a regular schedule like Quatre. Don't look at me like that. Quatre did a wonderful job helping you cope with your past, but it's time for a professional to polish off his work. I will show you that separately, you both are very strong men, but together, you're safe from everything."  
  
Resigning himself to the therapy, Trowa asked, "You're going to tell Quatre?"  
  
Corinne looked at him like he was crazy. "Uh, no. That's neither my place nor my business. I offer advice and counsel. What you choose to do with that is up to you. If you want Quatre to know how you feel-which I strongly recommend-then tell him. But if you don't, I'm not going to tell him for you. Trust me, the last thing anybody needs is an empathic psychiatrist forced to live with them because they can't talk to each other without a mediator.  
  
"But I'm gonna tell you this until you get it through your head: Quatre is an empath, a very strong and adept one at that. Eventually this thing with the children is going to die down, and Quatre's going to figure out something's wrong. Do you really want him to try and figure it out on his own?"  
  
He shook his head.  
  
"Yeah, didn't think so. That man just doesn't seem to have a very good track record when it comes to fixing his own problems." She smiled at him, and for the first time, Trowa felt a sense of hope. He could do this-- could figure out what skeletons remained in his closet that prevented him from fully accepting the new Quatre. He'd work through it, decide what was wrong, and fix it. It wasn't going to be hard, like fixing his Gundam.  
  
Trowa ignored the fact that the HeavyArms was now little more than a disintegrated hunk of metal. 


	8. Chapter 8

* * *  
  
"No more excuses, Quatre! You're either here in ten minutes, or I'm sending a security team to get you, understand!" It wasn't a question, and as Trowa walked through the door to their apartment, he was met with the sight of Quatre talking heatedly into the com device on the wall.  
  
Eyes closed, Quatre spoke to the box with strained and forced calm. "Sally, I am waiting for Trowa. As soon as he gets back, I'll be there. I need to-"  
  
"You need to get your ass down here in ten minutes unless you want it dragged down here by security!"  
  
Quatre took a deep breath and, as Trowa watched, seemed to count to three before addressing Sally; he still hadn't opened his eyes to see Trowa's entrance. "I will be there as soon as-"  
  
"You've got nine minutes, Quatre. Sally out!" And with that, the static sound that accompanied all inter-com signals died out. Trowa couldn't help the smile that stole over his face watching his lover in his exasperation.  
  
Turning around, Quatre slammed his back into the wall and slid down a few inches, his good hand going straight into his hair--a pose that Trowa had always thought made him look extremely cute.  
  
"That-it's not like I'm asking for the moon! For the love of-"  
  
Trowa couldn't take it anymore. Despite the damning revelations he'd learned over the last two hours with Corinne, he still saw Quatre and wanted nothing more than to kiss those soft lips and push his wayward bangs away from his face. He completely stepped into the room and addressed his lover. "How do you feel this morning, Quatre?"  
  
Startled, Quatre opened his eyes wide and swung around to look at him. "Trowa! When did you get here? I've been looking everywhere for you-well I was, and then Duo showed up-but that's not important. Are you alright?"  
  
Perplexed, Trowa looked towards the couch, and sure enough, Duo sat there watching him intently. He offered his friend a smile before returning to look at Quatre.  
  
"I'm fine. But you--how is your arm this morning?" He watched Quatre flinch at the reminder before he took a step forward and lightly touched above Quatre's damaged arm. The reaction was instantaneous but not what he'd expected. He'd thought perhaps Quatre would flinch away-attesting to the pain in his arm; but instead, Quatre threw his head up to look Trowa straight in the eyes before reaching up with his good hand and bringing him into a tight embrace.  
  
Trowa couldn't help it; the light sent of Quatre's cologne, the way his neck and shoulders met at just the right angle for him to tuck his head and lay a kiss--it was all the magic of his Quatre.  
  
Initiated--by his strong and dependable lover.  
  
Nuzzling Quatre's neck, Trowa wrapped his arms about the smaller man, pulling him into his body--without knowing he was doing it, offering comfort for comfort.  
  
He felt Quatre kiss his neck once, twice, before pulling back and reaching for his mouth. Trowa met him half way. The kiss was both begging and something else--begging for forgiveness and that other emotion Trowa could not decipher.  
  
After an intense moment, he pulled away, a quick touch of lips, finishing the first kiss of the day. Quatre's eyes were remorseful, and he searched Trowa's face for any look or sign that he was forgiven.  
  
Leaning forward, Trowa dropped a kiss on Quatre's forehead. "I needed to discuss a few things with Corinne this morning. That's where I was. I apologize for not answering the link when you 'called,' it was an.awkward moment." It wasn't entirely a lie, and Trowa knew he'd have to be careful if he wanted to find the perfect time to discuss things with Quatre.  
  
Suddenly, Quatre dug his good hand into the front of Trowa's shirt and stepped into him, clinging to him. "I understand. You had me worried, though. After.after last night--and then you weren't there when I woke up- I got scared you were really, really mad at me. So mad you didn't even want to-to wake up with me. And then it was only a few minutes to ten; you never wake up before eleven on Saturdays if you can help it."  
  
Smiling to himself at Quatre's ramblings, Trowa ran his hand lightly over the back of Quatre's head. "Well, I was angry, but that was last night. I realize now that you were going to tell me. But as long as you promise never to do something like that again, I'll forgive you."  
  
"Oh, I promise, Trowa. I promise."  
  
"Then all is forgiven, Little One. Don't worry. I'm sorry I frightened you this morning. Sally didn't think you'd awaken until after noon, so I didn't think to leave you a note."  
  
"It's ok I didn't wake up on my own anyway. Star pounced on me." Quatre looked up at him with a quirky smile. "Dumb kitten even had the indecency to sink her claws into me. Are you sure it's inhumane to have her de- clawed?"  
  
"Yes. But how did she pounce on you? I fed her after I'd left our bedroom, so I know the door was closed." They kept Star's food dish in the kitchenette Quatre had insisted on during the remodeling of their mutual space.  
  
Quatre looked confused for a moment before he turned away from him and looked towards the couch. Resting against it sat Killashandra, her hands running lightly over Star's coat, while her eyes watched them with a look of complete understanding and comprehension.  
  
Trowa saw Quatre look away after a moment before shaking his head. "Who knows how Star got in? It doesn't really matter. Actually, it's a good thing because Duo came over, and we got to.talk.for a little while. It was good for us."  
  
He looked at Duo, not sure what his longhaired friend was doing up and about before noon himself. He decided to ask. "Shouldn't you be in bed?"  
  
Duo scoffed before rising and coming to stand with them. "Can't a guy just wake up in the morning to spend some quality time with his best friend?"  
  
Skeptically, Trowa asked, "Is said friend dying?"  
  
Looking confused for a moment, Duo answered hesitantly. "No."  
  
"Then it's impossible. You never get up before noon on Saturday--not since the war."  
  
Suddenly Quatre was laughing. Roaring laughter that shook his entire body, and Trowa smiled in complement. Duo, however, just stood there stunned, mouth hanging open.  
  
After a few minutes, when Quatre couldn't stop laughing, Trowa decided he'd better intervene. "Ok, what's so funny?"  
  
Quatre just shook his head before taking one look at him and starting all over again. In desperation, he turned to Duo.  
  
"Now I know, the two of you have been spending too much time in each other's heads." Trowa gave him a confused look. "He asked me the same thing this morning: 'Is he dying?' and then when I said 'No,' he said, 'Then it's impossible for him to have woken up before noon.' Geesh, you guys need to change the channel every once in a while."  
  
Trowa looked at Quatre for confirmation, and upon seeing the twinkle in his lover's eyes, he began to laugh.  
  
The door chimes interrupted their joyous sound, but Duo just rolled his eyes and went to answer the door while they continued to laugh.  
  
"We're here to collect Captain Winner, Sir. He's needed in the infirmary, and we're to escort him." The Sargent wasn't an overly tall man, but his size made him formidable in the stretched security uniform. Quatre didn't seem to notice.  
  
His laughter completely disappeared, Quatre stepped up to the still taller man and put on his best "I'm a higher rank than you are" face. Then he lost it to his anger. "You tell Sally that I'll be there when I damn well get there! And then tell her she can-"  
  
Trowa cut him off. "Expect Quatre in five minutes. He was waiting for me, and we needed to discuss a few things before the treatment began. She'll understand."  
  
Quatre turned and glared at him, but he could tell his lover's temper had been appeased. However, the Sargent didn't get the hint. "Sir, my orders were to bring Captain Winner to the infirmary. Sir," he looked at Quatre. "Please come with me."  
  
Indignation tensed every muscle in Quatre's body, and Trowa wasn't sure that the hand he rested on Quatre's shoulder was going to do much at this point. But then the anger seemed to drain from Quatre's body to the point where his shoulders slumped. He took a deep breath before turning to Duo.  
  
"Can you stay here with the kids? It's my last round of therapy, and it's going to take a while."  
  
Duo nodded. "Sure. I'll wake Shingam up and then take them down for breakfast. By the time you get back they'll be dressed, fed, and ready for a nap. I'll even tire them out for you." Duo offered his patented "crazy man" smile before Quatre shook his head but agreed.  
  
Next Quatre turned towards his partner. "Trowa, if you don't need to go anywhere, would you mind coming with me? I think we should talk a little more. If that's alright?" Without hesitation Trowa nodded and wrapped his arm around Quatre's shoulders. With a nod of his head, the Sargent and three other security officers they hadn't seen stepped away from the door to allow the lovers to pass.  
  
With his good hand, Quatre reached over to take Trowa's free one. The security officers walked a discrete distance behind as they made their way to the infirmary.  
  
Suddenly something Duo said made Trowa pause in the middle of the hallway. "You haven't eaten yet, have you?"  
  
Quatre shook his head. "I had a cup of tea this morning, but that's all. Duo and I were talking most of the morning, and then Sally and now this, I haven't had time yet." Quatre looked sheepish for a moment before offering a smile. "Don't worry about it. If I know Sally, she'll offer me a protein bar before I go under. Those things taste awful, but at least it'll be something in my stomach for the next few hours."  
  
"Are you sure? We could stop in the cafeteria if you'd like?"  
  
Quatre gestured to the security team behind them. "How are we suppose to do that?"  
  
"Quatre, if you want breakfast, you'll have breakfast." His tone left no question, and he saw the team behind them begin to squirm. Sally's wrath may have been legendary, but no one dared question him when it came to his lover.  
  
But Quatre just shrugged. "I'll be fine. No sense getting them," he gestured again towards the team, "in trouble when it's me Sally's angry with. Let's just go and get it over with. Besides, with any luck, I'll be able to eat dinner, and keep it down if we go now." He said it with humor, but Trowa knew that of the things Quatre hated the most, it was being sick to his stomach. He'd once hinted that it had something to do with a traumatic experience at one of the exclusive private schools he'd attended, but Trowa had never questioned him about it.  
  
Agreeing, he again propelled them in the direction of the infirmary.  
  
Sally met them at the door.  
  
"There you are! I've been waiting all day!"  
  
"Sally, the security team wasn't necessary. I told you I was waiting for Trowa." "And I heard you, but that arm-and more importantly, infection-isn't going to. So get in here and sit on the table."  
  
Sighing, Quatre did as he was told, moving towards the table but refusing to let go of Trowa's hand. To alleviate some of Quatre's worries, Trowa gripped him about the waist and lifted him onto the table. He smiled at Quatre's giggle.  
  
"Thank you, Trowa."  
  
"You're welcome. Now lie down."  
  
It must have been the tension or perhaps the lack of nutrients to Quatre's brain, but his blonde vixen couldn't pass up that good an opportunity.  
  
"Here, Trowa?" Quatre made a point of looking around, ignoring Sally not three feet away. "But what if someone sees us?" Then he paused before shrugging his shoulders and grabbing Trowa's collar, effectively bringing him crashing half way onto the table with him. "If you insist."  
  
Trowa felt the blush steal over his cheeks involuntarily. Raising his head, he looked at Quatre pleadingly.  
  
"Nope." And with that, the Arabian pulled him forward and into a soul- searing kiss that involved all parts of his mouth. With little more to do than comply, Trowa surrendered to the possessive kiss and allowed Quatre's tongue entrance.  
  
A surge of warmth jetted through his body as their tongues made contact and demanded each other's attention. This was what he wanted, what he craved! Quatre in control. Quatre demanding his compliance. Strong and capable, possessive and giving all for his pleasure. Was this Quatre the same as the old? Could his most precious lover still be with him, only now peeking out to surprise him and making his arrival that much sweeter, that much more erotic?  
  
At Sally's indiscreet throat clearing, Quatre pulled away, giving him a wink. Swinging his body across the bed, Quatre laid down and closed his eyes for the briefest of seconds before opening them and taking Trowa's hand.  
  
And sadly, Trowa could feel the light shaking. Quatre was scared.  
  
Grabbing a chair from somewhere behind him, he pulled it right up to the bed and sat. Eyes level with Quatre's, he offered his most reassuring smile before running his free hand through blonde bangs. He couldn't even begin to explain how his mind could think of Quatre being weak as a bad thing and then think of nothing else but taking care of him. He was confused, and chose to bear his confusion in silence. Now was not the time to bring it up with Quatre.  
  
Turbulent emotions hidden behind walls constructed before his lover ever knew him, Trowa smiled down at Quatre. "Perhaps we'll continue when there are fewer witnesses."  
  
Quatre offered a shaky smile before nodding weakly.  
  
Across Quatre's prone body, Sally scoffed. "You better be careful, Trowa, you're starting to sound like Wufei. 'Sally, it doesn't matter if those people are fifty feet away, they can still see us!'"  
  
Quatre answered. "Well, fifty feet isn't that far away. They might notice the sudden bouncing movements." He smiled.  
  
"Oh, I wish! Nope, that's the lecture I get when I want to hold his hand! Don't even get me started about sex!" She shook her head in denial, and together they all laughed as she picked up Quatre's arm and removed the bandages, her engagement ring flashing in the overhead lights.  
  
"So tell me how the children are this morning." She grasped a pair of surgical scissors and began to cut the bandages.  
  
"They seem fine. Killashandra's taken to Star; she's been playing with her all morning. But come to think of it, I'm not sure who's really playing with whom." He smiled for Trowa. "Shingam was still asleep when we left. I think he just needs more rest than Killa."  
  
Sally nodded. "Maybe. I've got most of the team going over all the data the Techs are decoding. Mostly we're getting it in disorganized bits and pieces. We're trying to puzzle it all together, but with Christmas coming up, everyone's taking time off to spend with their families, and I can't blame them. We're going to make most of our headway on those files after the holidays. With this New Year being the dawning of a new century, it's hard to ask soldiers to be away from their families."  
  
He watched Quatre nod in agreement, a sad look casting over his eyes. Sally didn't miss it.  
  
"Ok, well, enough of that. Let's take a look at this arm." Peeling back the last of the bandages, she revealed a white blistering mess of flesh, but thankfully, one that did not look so badly infected. "You're lucky someone invented super antibiotics a hundred years ago, or I can guarantee this arm would be in a mass of trouble. As it is, you're looking at another hour under the lights to make up for the bacteria's damage."  
  
Quatre flinched, and Trowa could feel the increase shaking of his lover's grip. He held on more tightly.  
  
Sally pulled back and wheeled a cumbersome machine to the bedside, a box that adjusted to fit any size body part. Carefully she maneuvered Quatre's arm into it before pressing a few buttons which caused a seal to close around his forearm, effectively trapping his hand and arm in the box.  
  
"Ready?"  
  
Quatre took a deep breath.  
  
"Sally," Trowa interrupted on Quatre's behalf. "Because of your-escort-we weren't able to stop and get Quatre something to eat. Do you have anything before you start?"  
  
As if it was Quatre's fault, Sally glared down at him. "Quatre, didn't I tell you yesterday before I released you that you had to eat a full hour before this procedure? I could have sworn-"  
  
Irrational temper rose in Trowa, and like it, he rose to protect his partner. "If we hadn't been rushed, I would have made sure Quatre had eaten before we came. As it is we didn't exactly have a choice in the matter, Sally." He used her name as a holding point and glared at her. No one talked to Quatre like that.  
  
And like the security guards, Sally, too, did not come between Trowa and his partner. Nodding her head, she moved silently into the other room to grab a protein bar. When she's stepped out of the room, Quatre turned to him.  
  
"Trowa, that was a little harsh, don't you think? Sally did tell me and she had every right-"  
  
"She had no right to send the team to get you in the first place since she knew I'd planned to bring you first thing this afternoon--after you'd eaten. Since she insisted on calling you in sooner, she is in no position to be short with you." He felt his anger simmer down at Quatre's angelic look.  
  
"Thank you for defending me, Trowa." His name was said with endearment, and Trowa felt a sense of pride and love flow through him. He'd always defend Quatre; he'd always protect him.  
  
"Ok, sorry about that. Here, Quatre, it's not much, but it should fill you up enough until after the nausea subsides." Sally handed Trowa a wrapped bar that looked like a stick of bread. After releasing Quatre's hand, he opened the wrapper and then pressed the bar to Quatre's lips. He held it there for Quatre to take a bite. At the same time capturing the hand he'd previously let go. His lover offered him a soft smile before opening his mouth and biting into the dry bar. He smiled as Quatre made a face but continued to chew and swallow until the bar was gone.  
  
Satisfied, he nodded to Sally, who took the hint and moved to the machine. "Alright, Quatre, you've done this before. Remember that initially it'll feel like your hand's fluctuating between extreme heat and cold, before it settles down. Next comes the pulsing. This'll stimulate the skin to begin regeneration at the accelerated rate; however, it's going to make you sicker than a dog, so just hold on. As soon as it's over with your arm should be in good enough shape that we won't have to do this again. Just be grateful you're not Heero. I had to run him through this thing-full body-for nearly a week. I swear Duo was ready to start threatening to kill my unborn children if I didn't stop the therapy; but if you people would just stop walking through fire, I wouldn't have to do this all the time."  
  
Sally continued to mumble to herself as she programmed the machine. Then in a moment of readying silence, she pushed the start button.  
  
Instantly, Quatre tensed, his whole body going rigid. The process was painful, almost like being burned all over again, but it cut the recovery time by nearly ninety percent and usually prevented scarring. The problem lay in the inability to issue painkillers during the process; it somehow prevented the skin from regenerating properly. So as such, the pilots suffered immensely, but it was better than being out of commission for weeks on end. But as Trowa watched Quatre struggle with the pain for the second time in two days, he began to wonder if it really was better.  
  
Deciding he needed to take his lover's mind off the pain, Trowa questioned him on the one thing he knew Quatre would want to talk about. "Quatre, tell me your plans for the children today? What are you going to do with them this afternoon?"  
  
And like he knew it would, it worked. Quatre turned to look at him, a nearly hidden grimace on his face. "I thought we'd take them to the gardens. Let them play on the jungle gym Wufei built for Marieminna. Now that I think about it, we should probably introduce them--Marieminna and the children." Suddenly Quatre looked at him with a pained expression.  
  
"Are you alright? Is the pain that bad?"  
  
But Quatre shook his head and turned to Sally. "Would you mind if I talked to Trowa alone for a little while?" Concerned, he watched Sally nod before exiting the room and returning to her own office.  
  
He looked back at Quatre, but the blonde was staring up at the ceiling, gathering his thoughts.  
  
"Quatre?"  
  
"Please, Trowa, let me just talk, and you listen, ok? I want you to hear everything I have to say before this gets any worse than I've already made it."  
  
Blind panic overcame Trowa. How had Quatre figured it out?! What would Quatre do now that he knew how Trowa felt? He couldn't let this happen, couldn't let Quatre take an irreparable step back because of him! He had to stop him! Now! "Quatre, don't-"  
  
"I'm sorry about the children, Trowa." The children? "I wasn't thinking. All I saw were these two children who needed me to help them, and that was it. I didn't think about anything or anyone else, especially you. I made some huge assumptions, and I can't tell you how sorry I am about them." Quatre turned to face him, sorrow and regret clearly written on his face. He let go of his hand and moved it to brush against Trowa's face. "I-I wanted so much to protect them that I didn't even ask you your opinion on the idea of saving them. I assumed you wanted to save them as much as I did, and that-because I wanted it-they would stay with us. But I never asked you, and so soon after everything that's happened, I had no right to just take you for granted. Everything between us has been happening so fast, and then for me to just throw two children we hardly know anything about right into our lives--Trowa, I'm so sorry."  
  
And then he understood. This had nothing to do with Quatre realizing his terrible secret. Instead, he was worried that Trowa felt taken advantage of--that his privacy and trust had been breached by Quatre's taking in of these two children. But Trowa had never felt put upon. Quatre had wanted to find these children for months, and he'd always understood that if they found them, Quatre would want them to be at least near if not with them. It was an assumption, but a correct one; Trowa tried to give Quatre whatever he wanted, and in return, Quatre bowed down to whatever whim he himself might conceive. Sure there were times they said no to each other, but for the most part, neither one asked for much, so when they did, it was usually given freely and without hesitation.  
  
"You have nothing to be sorry about. I knew you wanted the children to move in with us if you ever found them; and I knew you'd want to take care of them for as long as you could. I would never think of taking that away from you."  
  
"Yes, but, Trowa, I didn't give you a choice. I never even asked. How rude and horrid of me to make such outlandish assumptions. I feel so wretched, and after talking to Duo I should."  
  
Confused, Trowa had no idea what Duo had to do with any of this. "Quatre, what did Duo say to you this morning?"  
  
Looking suddenly caught between a rock and a hard place, he watched as Quatre debated how much to tell him before finally answering. "He said that it's not as if you'd have felt comfortable telling me 'no' anyway. Oh, Trowa, it isn't true, is it? You're not so afraid I'll slip and fall back into my old patterns that you wouldn't tell me no if you didn't want something or even yell at me if I deserved it, would you? You do know that I'd do whatever you wanted me to do, don't you? That I'd change my mind in a heart beat if you wanted something different. You know you don't have to tiptoe around me, don't you, Trowa?"  
  
The pleading in Quatre's voice was one more kick to the explosion that his words had entailed. Just as Corinne had said, Quatre truly would do and become whatever Trowa wanted him to be. There was no question in his mind now that if he told Quatre how he felt, told him that his own seeming weakness was tearing him apart, Quatre would change. Like Corinne had said, in less than a day he'd have his old Quatre back, and for a short time it would be glorious. Quatre would take charge, be strong and powerful, possessive and loving--right before he couldn't take it anymore and ended his life. He couldn't, would not, let that happen! He now knew he'd never allow Quatre to know anything about his condemning thoughts and feelings.  
  
Carefully, he covered his own pain, hiding it from the view of the one man who could make it all better; if only he could be allowed to know. He called forth a smile, and like his stony expression, it was produced-- clockwork at it's finest.  
  
"Quatre, don't be silly. I want your happiness more than anything else in the world-in the universe. Bringing the children here made you happy, and honestly it's made me happy as well. We haven't had much time together, but I feel somehow connected to them; perhaps it's because they know me so intimately through their connection to the ZERO, but regardless I find them very important.  
  
"And Duo was wrong. You know me, Quatre. If you want it, and it's within my ability to give it to you, I will. I want to. Making you happy is my life. Now if I'd thought bringing them here would have jeopardized your recovery then I would have refused, but I don't think that will be the case. In fact, I talked to Corinne this morning about that, and she agreed as well. I was concerned about you not telling me you were in pain last night, but I think I understand why you did it.  
  
"In that light, I don't ever want you to do it again, but I understand. As far as taking advantage of me or any assumptions you might have made, I'll tell you if I don't want something, Quatre, and I know like me, you'll stop or won't go through with it. It's something about our relationship that works very well."  
  
He smiled, a look he didn't entirely feel, until he watched the tension drain from Quatre's face.  
  
"Then you didn't leave so early this morning because you couldn't stand the sight of me?"  
  
Aghast, he answered, "Of course not! Quatre," he leaned in, genuinely concerned that Quatre could possibly think that, "I live to wake up beside you; to know that you're safe and well. How many times do I have to tell you, beloved, I will never leave you, never."  
  
"No, I understand that, Trowa. But sometimes people get angry, and I just don't want you to ever feel like you'd rather be away from me than be in the same room with me. I couldn't bear it if you ever got that disappointed or angry with me."  
  
"Don't worry about such things, Little One. For as long as you'll have me, I'll always wake up next to you, always."  
  
"Thank you, Trowa. I love you, so very much."  
  
He leaned down and kissed him then, a sweet kiss that spoke of forgiveness and whispered promises. It lasted for a long moment before Quatre turned away and shuddered.  
  
"Quatre?"  
  
He shuddered again, "I-I'm sorry Trowa, but-but I think I'm going to be sick." And with that, he was.  
  
* * *  
  
Carefully, Trowa helped him into the room, his weight fully supported by that of his taller and much stronger lover.  
  
"I'd ask how it went, but I'm guessing it was pretty bad." Duo's obnoxious voice was not something Quatre was looking forward to; especially not after being sick three times and currently feeling like he was going to be again.  
  
"Duo, shut up."  
  
His friend offered a weak smile before standing from the couch so Trowa could help him over to it. Sighing greatly, he allowed his body to melt into the cushions. Tiredly, he opened his eyes in time to see Shingam watching him. He offered the boy a weak smile.  
  
"You sure slept late this morning. Are you feeling well rested?" The boy said nothing but curiously moved to sit next to him on the couch. Then at once, Killashandra moved to the couch as well, sitting on the other side of him--both children watching him, Shingam with a desperate and worried look.  
  
Surprised, he looked up at Duo and Heero-who had been sitting in a chair when they'd arrived-neither one acted as if this was a planned greeting. Glancing at Trowa, he saw his partner watching him intently, obviously curious as to what he was going to do. Offering Trowa a wink, he looked back at the children and made a point of smiling at each of them.  
  
Slowly so as not to startle them, he moved both of his arms to wrap around the two children, pulling them close and holding them tightly. They didn't protest, and in fact, Killashandra turned her body to lay her head down in his lap.  
  
He was exhausted after the three hour long therapy that had rid his arm of the infection and worse the burns but had drained him of all of his strength. He wanted nothing more than to sleep, to take Trowa to bed, and not wake up for a very, very long time. But then again, Quatre didn't dare leave the children looking so frightened.  
  
"Shingam, what's wrong? I'm fine; in fact, after I get a nap I'll be good as new. I was thinking that all four of us--you, me, Killashandra, and Trowa--could all take naps. Killa and Trowa have been up since early this morning, I think, and they may need a nap. What do you think? Does Killa need a nap?"  
  
He understood Shingam's need to be in control of Killashandra; it was the same drive he'd felt to protect Trowa, from everything. Now he needed to draw on his own past behaviors to try and stay one step ahead of a boy who could run circles around him. He hoped he was up to the challenge.  
  
Shingam looked at him worriedly before asking, "Did they hurt you badly?"  
  
Quatre couldn't stand the fear and worry in Shingam's voice. He saw again the images of this little boy being beaten and battered again and again, over and over in his mind. Ducking his head, he nuzzled Shingam and to his surprise, the boy returned the gesture in kind. Softly, Quatre whispered to him. "I'm fine, Shingam. They didn't mean to hurt me, they did it so that I'd get better faster. I did a very stupid thing last night, and I didn't get help when I needed it. Because of that, I had to go through extra therapy today, and it makes me very tired and very sick to my stomach. But I'll be all right by dinner, and we'll all have something really good to eat. Doesn't that sound good? Until then, I think it would be best if we all went to sleep for a little while. Haven't you and Killa ever take naps before?"  
  
Pulling back slightly, Shingam shook his head. "We never took naps. We never knew when they'd come." There was an ominous sound to the way Shingam said 'they', and Quatre nearly shivered from reaction to his softly spoken words. Instead he pulled the boy closer still and lightly ran his fingers through Killa's hair; offering comfort the best way he could.  
  
"Well, you don't have to worry about anyone bad coming for you now. So I think we should get the two of you into bed and tucked under the covers-- just for a few hours--and then when you wake up, Trowa and I'll take you out to the gardens, and you and Killa can play. Sound good?"  
  
Hesitantly, Shingam nodded. Then pulling away, he slid off the couch and with much tenderness, pulled Killashandra from his lap. Then with stony eyes, he turned to Trowa.  
  
"Will you tuck us in? Quatre's too tired and sick. He needs to rest--a nap. We'll sleep until he's better." Commanding but little more than what he'd told them himself--as if Shingam took his own words and added authority to them--like a little parrot that added his own twist.  
  
But Trowa only nodded, and instead of taking Shingam or Killashandra's hand, he lifted both children into his arms and carried them towards their bedroom. Quatre tracked them with his eyes, following Trowa's sure movements while he carried his precious cargo. When he'd passed the sensor and the door shut behind him, Quatre turned back to his guests.  
  
"Thank you, Duo."  
  
"No sweat! The kids were angels.well, for the most part. Shingam's a real pain to get up. I think the kid must have rolled over about six times. Anyway, I got them both dressed and down to the kitchen about an hour after you left. Heero met us there and we fed them--something really healthy. You'd have been proud." Quatre smiled his thanks, the events of the last three hours, and more to the point entire morning, catching up with him.  
  
"Duo, we should let Quatre sleep. Quatre, we'll tell you the rest of the details later. Come and get us when you and Trowa take them out this afternoon; we'll give you a hand." He nodded to Heero just as Trowa emerged from the spare room.  
  
Moving to Quatre's side, Trowa sat down on the edge of the couch, ready to take Quatre to bed and letting everyone in the room know it.  
  
"Well, it looks like we've overstayed our welcome. Come on, Heero, I'm sure we can find something to do to kill a few hours." Duo's eyes shone with mischief, and Quatre rolled his eyes as Heero followed Duo to the door.  
  
When they were gone, he turned to Trowa, only to find that his lover had already risen, hand extended to him, ready to pull him into the bedroom. He offered another tired smile before allowing Trowa to pull him up and tuck him safely under the crook of his arm.  
  
"That was fast. They must have gotten right into bed."  
  
Trowa nodded. "I think they were afraid of the way you looked when you came through the door. They look to you for protection, and to see you so.beaten, it couldn't have been easy for them."  
  
Trowa's words stung, and for a moment he felt like he'd let them down--all of them-Trowa included. But Quatre shook it off. He couldn't be strong all the time, and he had to come to grips with that. He had to rely on Trowa sometimes, and one of those times was now. He'd reassure the children as soon as he woke up.  
  
"I'll explain again when we wake up. I think you may be right, though, they did look a little frightened. What did Duo call it this morning? Damage control. I'll do damage control when we wake up. Right now I just want to sleep until Tuesday." He smiled up at Trowa, who gently set him to stand on his own in front of the bed.  
  
Quickly, Trowa undid all of the buttons on his shirt before sliding the sleeves carefully over the healed but still tender arm. Being dramatic, Quatre fell back and onto the bed the moment his shirt was completely off. He opened one eye to gaze at Trowa before his lover shrugged his shoulders and moved to the fasteners of his pants.  
  
"You'll wrinkle these if you sleep in them."  
  
Pouting, Quatre whined back, "Don't care, just want to sleep. Buy new pants in the morning." He laughed at his own joke before closing his eyes and allowing Trowa free reign over his body. He felt his pants removed from his legs, and then Trowa was telling him to slide up, and he complied.  
  
A few minutes later, Trowa settled in beside him, but that wasn't enough for Quatre. He felt wretched, and he wasn't going to sleep alone!  
  
"Trowa, are you comfortable?" The same phrase from so long ago-the first night they'd admitted their true feelings to each other--a life time ago in an old circus trailer-tumbled forth from his lips. He wondered if Trowa would catch it.  
  
"I'm fine. Why?"  
  
Darn, he didn't. Oh, well. Reaching across the space that didn't seem wide enough to accommodate Trowa's legs most days, but today seemed unnaturally wide, he pulled Trowa into him, tucking his lover safely into the warmth of his own body.  
  
"Sorry, Trowa, I wasn't very comfortable; but I think this will be much better."  
  
He felt Trowa settle in, nuzzling his neck for a few moments before whispering softly. "I think this will do much better as well. I-I miss this sometimes."  
  
"Miss what?"  
  
"N-Nothing. Just rest, I know you're tired."  
  
"I love you, Trowa."  
  
"I-goodnight, Quatre."  
  
"Goodnight." 


	9. Chapter 9

"So did you talk to him?" Duo stood beside Quatre next to a willow tree, watching Shingam inspect the jungle gym with the eye of an overprotective parent. Killashandra stood beside him quietly, watching the trees sway and the clouds lazily drift by. It was like watching a child see the world for the first time; and Quatre felt a dull fear that perhaps this was Killa's first time.  
  
Shaking off his worry he turned back to Duo. "We talked a little. Honestly, it wasn't all that terrible. Trowa understood, and after he made me promise never to do it again, he forgave me. He seemed more upset about my fears of his anger, than he was of me not telling him I was in pain. I think I blew this whole thing totally out of proportion in my head and expected this great big fall out between the two of us. Really Duo, next time you want to scare me to death, make sure Trowa's going to do something drastic, like leave me or something." He smiled kindly at Duo who only shook his head.  
  
"Yeah right! If we waited for Trowa to leave you, Hell would be an ice skating rink." They laughed together as they watched Trowa and Heero lifting the two children onto the sturdy wooden frame.  
  
When they had cleared this section of the garden, there'd been quite a few trees that needed to be removed. Wufei had insisted they not go to waste and none of the others had been inclined to disagree. Trowa had shown his ability to work the wood; while Wufei, Heero, and Duo had constructed the climbing device; he himself had designed it.  
  
Now years later, it stood tall and proud; an addition to the garden that pulled children from their parents homes to play and socialize. Today was a rare day, and it seemed the onslaught of Christmas had most of the children with their parents, tucked safely away.  
  
Quatre watched as Trowa effortlessly vaulted up and onto the platform before lifting Shingam and settling him onto the slide. The slide held a certain amount of pride for the pilots. It was constructed from a piece of the outer hull of the Epyon. One more marker to prove that war could bring some measure of peace and perhaps even joy to another generation.  
  
"Quatre!" A voice that unmistakably belonged to Marieminna traveled across the garden to him, and he spun around just in time to receive a huge hug from the slight girl.  
  
"Oh Quatre, I missed you so much! And look! Look what Mom got me! It's a kite! Mom said that I can play with it until dinner. But I'm not allowed to play with it if there's rain or lightning, and she said something about tying keys to it-but I didn't understand that part. But look, isn't it neat?! Did you miss me, as much as I missed you? Who are those kids? Will you play with me? Please!!!"  
  
Quatre laughed happily as the little bundle of energy wrapped her arms around his neck and held on for dear life. He lifted her into the air and twirled, swinging her around and around until she began to giggle uncontrollably.  
  
"I did miss you; very, very much. And I'd love to help you fly you're kite. It's very pretty, is that a picture of a unicorn? Well it's a very pretty unicorn. And your mom's right, you shouldn't tie keys to your kite, and you shouldn't fly it in rainstorms. Why? Don't worry about it, I'm sure you'll tire of it before the next rain season." He laughed heartily as she swatted at him for his wayward remark.  
  
Kneeling down, he set Marieminna on her feet but was startled to see Killashandra standing next to Duo, her eyes taking in his interaction with the much taller girl. Her eyes were stone, but behind them he could just make out what he considered a look of curiosity, and perhaps, something else.  
  
"Marieminna, I want to introduce you to Killashandra. Killa, this is Marieminna. Lady Une, the woman that helped fix the soup you ate last night, is her Mom. Marieminna, Killashandra doesn't talk, so you have to be patient with her. Her friend is Shingam-who's coming over right now- sometimes he can speak for Killashandra, so if you want to ask her a question, you'll need to ask Shingam for the response, understand?"  
  
She looked perplexed for a moment before turning and walking up to Killashandra. The smaller girl didn't more, but kept herself tucked firmly, half hidden behind one of Duo's legs. Marieminna extended a small hand to the little girl.  
  
"Hi, I'm Marieminna. This is my new kite, want to see it?" She presented the kite for inspection, but Killashandra only glanced at it before turning her eyes towards him; watching for his reaction to the entire situation. He smiled to reassure her.  
  
"She won't talk to you! Killa's my responsibility! You don't talk to her!" Shingam stood next to Marieminna now, his stance was defensive, and he truly looked as if he'd harm the red haired girl if she disregarded his warning. But Marieminna was a dictator in her own right, and as Trowa and Heero approached, they all watched the drama unfold.  
  
"She's not your slave, and I'm not your servant. Don't tell her or me what to do! If she want's to see my kite then she can!"  
  
"I said she can't!"  
  
"I don't care!" The two were about to begin screaming when Killashandra stepped out from behind Duo and reached for Shingam's hand. The boy had her securely behind him in the blink of an eye.  
  
Marieminna looked a little hurt for a moment; and then suddenly, Killashandra reached out with her unoccupied hand, and lightly touched the kite. Shingam turned to look at her but Killashandra was stepping away from him, fingering the flimsy material of the kite.  
  
Marieminna nearly radiated with triumph, and she had no qualms about sharing it with Shingam.  
  
"See, I told you she could make up her own mind. I use to be a dictator, I know nobody listens to meany's!" She paused as if to rethink her statement, only to shrug her shoulders and give a hesitant smile. "Anyway, that's not important. What's your name again, I forgot when I was yelling at you."  
  
"Shingam." He said his name proudly, as if he hadn't lost anything in the exchange. "What's your name?"  
  
"Marieminna. Lady Une's my Mom; and Quatre's my best friend. You can be my friend too; you and Killashandra. But you have to be nice, and you can't tell me what to do. Quatre says that's unbecoming of a lady, and I really want to be a lady when I grow up, just like my Mom. But like I said we can be friends. Do you and Killashandra want to help me fly my new kite?"  
  
Like children so often do, Marieminna was so willing to accept total strangers, to allow into her sheltered life something, or more accurately some ones, who did not fit neatly into the mold so many would make for her. She offered the kite out to Shingam for inspection, which he examined as he had the jungle gym; looking for something but obviously not finding it.  
  
"Kite?"  
  
"Yeah silly, it's a kite. Mom said people use to fly them all the time in the early pre-Colonial days. She said little kids use to play with them on sunny days in the summer. But I guess since it's sunny here all the time, it doesn't have to be summer to fly a kite. But I saw one flown once, and it was really neat. I can't wait to fly mine. So do you want to help or not?"  
  
Hesitantly Shingam nodded, and Quatre felt a sense of relief wash over him. Moving closer the boy took the kite between his hands and flipped it over, and then over again.  
  
"What's it for?"  
  
Perplexed, Marieminna answered as best she could. "It's for playing. We're going to play with it, right?"  
  
"What does it do?"  
  
She paused. "Um, I think it does tricks; and it flies really high in the air. It's so neat! Just wait and see! But we have to get it up first. You and Killashandra are going to help me, right?"  
  
Shingam nodded his head and turned to Killashandra for a moment of silent communication before he floored them with his next question.  
  
"Where are the missiles located?"  
  
"HUH? What are you talking about?"  
  
"It's a training device? Where are the missiles?"  
  
"It's not a training device! It's a toy, you play with it!"  
  
"If it doesn't train you, then what's the point?"  
  
Collectively, they all shuddered. Could it be that these two children knew only about weapons and war? Could their whole lives be nothing but pain and suffering? Quatre felt blinding anger again towards the scientist that had done this to these sweet children. He didn't care if they were sent to kill them like Duo and Heero thought; he didn't care! He was going to make sure that they were never touched by war for the rest of their lives.  
  
He was about to lean down and tell them so, when Marieminna again startled them all.  
  
"Well, I guess there isn't a point. It's just fun. But if you wanted to make it a training device we could pretend there are 87X-RC missiles on it. Those usually blow up anything they come in contact with. That way when the kite hits the ground it'll blow up. We can even duck and cover when we pretend. I'm not suppose to talk about weapons and bad stuff like that, but I'm sure Mom won't mind since I'm just playing."  
  
But Shingam was shaking his head. "87X-RC missiles will do too much damage, if they hit the ground they'll blow up a fifty foot radius. We need something smaller."  
  
Marieminna rolled her eyes. "It's just pretend! We're not really going to blow stuff up! We'll just pretend that the ground is laced Gundanium alloy, mixed with half parts steel and concrete. That way when it blows up, it'll only make a small hole, but'll blow the concrete up."  
  
Shingam nodded. "The debris should sufficiently neutralize anything we're aiming at."  
  
"Yeah, I used it in a march on Asica, a town in New America. There weren't any survivors, it was pretty cool."  
  
"Marieminna!"  
  
Quatre's voice rang loudly in the silence of these two children discussing war tactics like adults; and with as much pride as could be considered distasteful to the most liberal of generals. Marieminna cringed under his tone and turned sheepish eyes towards Quatre's angry face.  
  
"Quatre, we were only pretending. I wasn't really going to put 87X-RC missiles on my kite, honest."  
  
Behind her Shingam nodded. "This-kite-wouldn't support their weight anyway, it's too flimsy."  
  
Marieminna spun, rising to what she considered a challenge. "I know that! We'd have to lighten the load anyway, or make the kite stronger, maybe even use jets! But we're just pretending." Realizing what she was saying she turned guilty eyes back to Quatre and looked at him like a bad puppy would. "Sorry Quatre."  
  
"OK," having enough, he knelt down to be eye level with the three children and made a point to catch each of their eyes. "No more talking about missiles or 87X-RC missiles, understand." He watched Marieminna nod solemnly, while Shingam looked a bit scared for a moment before he looked at Heero's stern but kind face and nodded as well; Killashandra did nothing but continued to look at the kite, ignoring him. "Missiles and weapons hurt people, don't they Marieminna?" She nodded. "And it's bad to hurt people isn't it?" Again the girl nodded.  
  
Shingam didn't agree. "Sometimes you have to hurt people to protect people."  
  
Marieminna turned questioning eyes on Quatre but he grimly nodded his agreement. "Shingam, are you talking about the information you learned from the ZERO files?"  
  
"ZERO files? You read them?! I spent months trying to track down a usable copy for my mobile dolls! You've read them?!" Marieminna was at once astonished.  
  
"Marieminna! What have you been told?" His voice held a hint of a warning and the girl before him again looked guiltily.  
  
"I'm not suppose to talk about my trying to take over the world in present tense. But Quatre, he's read the files, and I really did spend a lot of resources trying to track them down! Did he have them all the time?" She turned accusing eyes on Shingam and Killashandra. "Did you? Did you have the files all the time?"  
  
Shingam shrugged. "I know what's in them."  
  
"OOOHHHHH! I'm so-so mad! I'm mad! Where were they? Where are they now?"  
  
"MARIEMINNA!"  
  
"But Quatre-"  
  
"No 'buts', now no more of this! Do you want Shingam and Killashandra to help you fly your kite-without pretending it has missiles attached to it-or would you rather go in?" He knew the children thought he was being harsh but it was for their own good.  
  
"Ooohhh fine! Do you want to fly my dumb old kite or not?" Marieminna turned turbulent eyes on Shingam, but the sable haired boy only nodded, and taking Killa's hand, walked with Marieminna some distance away.  
  
Quatre breathed a great sigh of relief.  
  
"That was really, really deranged." Leave it to Duo to stamp the situation.  
  
"We knew Marieminna had adept knowledge of all things military, but Shingam has superior skills as well. It's almost-"  
  
"Frightening. Heero, it's frightening." Trowa's voice cut through Heero's next word, but the perfect solider nodded his agreement.  
  
"How? Why? Why teach a child so young about such things?" Quatre couldn't comprehend the treatment the children, including Marieminna, had to have gone through to become like they were.  
  
"Simple," Heero answered. "Get them young. Train them hard. And forget about them if they don't come back." Suddenly Duo had his arm wrapped around Heero's shoulder, offering comfort for a topic obviously too close to home.  
  
"Well, guess what? There are people here now that care if they come back, all of them." The 'them' was made to include Heero, and in an act not often witnessed by outsiders, Heero folded into Duo, taking comfort in the shelter of his lover's arms.  
  
Quatre saw a confused expression fall over Trowa's face, and he moved to his partner in question. "It can't be easy. Watching these two children, especially Shingam, rattle off weapons of mass destruction like discussing computer games. I forgot the kind of training you had to go through when you were little, all that mecha repair and construction. You had to learn all about those types of weapons at his age too, didn't you?" Carefully, Trowa nodded. "Then, maybe you should talk to him. You and Heero have the firmest grasp on what he must be going through. I think if I started to talk to him, I'd get lost in the jumble. Imagine a five year old knowing what a 87X-RC missile is; I don't even know, and I'm twenty!"  
  
"Thankfully, you never had to know." It was something in the way Trowa said it, the timber of his voice changed ever so slightly, and instantly Quatre had him close. Arms where they should be-wrapped tightly about his lover's waist-and Quatre pulled Trowa's head down onto his shoulder and ran light fingers through his hair.  
  
Quietly, for Trowa's ears only, he whispered. "The past isn't something we can forget, Luv. It won't go away, and we can't out run it. But we learn from it, and sometimes the best we can hope for is to tell another of what we know so they don't have to go through the same things we did. Right?" Weakly, Trowa nodded against his neck.  
  
He nuzzled into Trowa, rubbing their cheeks together and kissing his unusual bangs lightly. It was so easy to see Trowa as strong and capable now; so easy to forget that less than a year before-really only a little more than six months ago-Trowa was always where he was now, tucked safely against him; safe from the world. Trowa was so strong, so wonderful, he'd braved the worst the world had to offer just for him; so that Quatre wouldn't have to suffer needlessly. But every now and then, he knew Trowa missed the hidden surprises, the stolen kisses. He knew but was hesitant to try. He didn't know if Trowa would consider it a slip, reverting back to old patterns, and false senses of his own strength. So he played the part he was given, acted for Trowa, not the strong man he'd become, but the hesitant man Trowa thought that he was. Trowa wanted to be the one in charge; it's what he'd said a little over a month ago. He wanted Quatre to do as told, to follow for a little while instead of leading. And Quatre would be anything Trowa needed, would become whatever his lover wanted him to be. If Trowa wanted to be strong, then Quatre would be weak, it was the least he could do.  
  
"QUATRE LOOK!!!!" Lifting his head from his silent thoughts, he saw Marieminna pointing to the sky, and sure enough, the picture of a white unicorn floated about fifteen feet off the ground. Shingam stood a short distance away, and Marieminna held onto the string with a seaman's grip.  
  
"Marieminna, that's wonderful! Good job Shingam, that's great!"  
  
In a selfless move, he saw Marieminna move over to Killashandra and hand the smaller girl the plastic ring that held the string. Killa took the offering and watched fascinated as the kite soared high into the air.  
  
"Something tells me, we're all about to go 'Awwwww' any moment now."  
  
"Duo, be quiet."  
  
"Yes, Heero."  
  
And together, they all proclaimed loudly, "Awwwwwwww." 


	10. Chapter 10

"Did you both have fun playing with Marieminna today?"  
  
Shingam looked down at Killashandra, who rested against his chest, before answering. "We had fun. It was strange training; but Killashandra liked the kite."  
  
Quatre debated explaining that it wasn't training, but decided now wasn't the time. "Well I'm glad. Marieminna asked me at dinner if she could come over and play tomorrow, would you like that?"  
  
"I would. And," he looked again at Killashandra. "So would Killa. She was.nice. She knew lots of stuff; as much as Killa and I do."  
  
"Marieminna's a very smart girl."  
  
Shingam nodded, but a yawn caught him, and he closed his eyes before opening them and looking expectantly at him.  
  
"Well I guess that's my cue to start reading, isn't it?" Shingam nodded. "Ok. Duo what did you bring?"  
  
He turned to Duo who sat in a chair next to the bed he was currently sitting on; Shingam and Killashandra tucked neatly inside. Trowa and Heero rested against the wall talking quietly to each other and watching the spectacle before them.  
  
"Yeah, ok, I got one book chalked full of scary stories designed to make little kids wet the bed, and I got fairytales for every child. I'm assuming you want the fairytales." Quatre rolled his eyes. "One book of fairytales coming up."  
  
"Thank you, Duo. Shingam, Killashandra, we should thank Heero for letting us borrow his book, don't you agree?" After the war, Heero had turned to other mediums to quiet his mind. Duo had been the first to suggest children's books, saying that not only had he missed out on them when he was little, but they worked for kids. So Heero had taken to reading children's literature, he often said it was something he could either read for the simple pleasure of reading, or could examine, searching for hidden meanings of the times.  
  
Shingam nodded to Heero and even offered a slight smile, which Heero returned. Settling into his position as storyteller, Quatre opened the book and looked for the marked page; but it wasn't there.  
  
"Duo, I thought you were going to mark the pages?"  
  
"Oh yeah I forgot to tell you. This is actually a new book, I got it for Heero's birthday but forgot where I'd hidden it. Anyway, I found it looking for the other one, and decided this one was as good as any. Look in the table of contents, it's by some guy named Gimes or something like that. It's a name, you know the name of a person or something. I don't remember, it was a long time ago."  
  
Rolling his eyes for a second time, Quatre thumbed through the book until he came across a picture of a beautiful woman wearing clothing similar to the kind women today wore to balls. Deciding this one was as good as any, and that no person in their right mind would make a story for children scary, he began to read.  
  
"Cinderella. Once upon a time, there was a beautiful little girl who loved her father very much. And her father loved her, just as much. The father was sad that his beautiful daughter did not have a mother, since she died when the girl was very small, so he set out to find a new wife, and a new mother for his lovely daughter."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"Why did he want to give the daughter a mother? Didn't he know how to protect her himself?"  
  
Duo stepped in. "Shingam, I'm sure the girl's dad was still really young and just wasn't satisfied with his bachelor like existence. He probably just wanted to get-" Heero's hand planted itself firmly over Duo's open mouth.  
  
"He was looking out for his daughter. He realized that she needed a mother to talk.girl stuff with."  
  
Duo managed to escape Heero's hand just in time to comment on that little tidbit. "Yeah, and you and Relena wouldn't be talking 'girl talk' over the vid the other day, now would you?"  
  
Heero offered him the Death Glare, and Duo silently celebrated his victory.  
  
Quatre continued. "Then it happened one day that the little girl's father returned home, and inside the carriage was a woman and her two daughters. The girl's father explained that the woman was the girl's new stepmother, and the sisters were her new stepsisters. And the girl was so excited, and so were her new stepsisters, and so was her father and her new stepmother."  
  
"Yeah I bet, there's finally going to be some action in the house, and after how long?" Heero offered Quatre an apologetic smile before reaching behind Duo and grabbing him by his long braid.  
  
Quatre smiled down at the children whose attention he had completely, and began again.  
  
"But it came to pass that the little girl's father became.wait a minute! Duo I thought you said this was a happy story?" He did not like the next line at all.  
  
"It is, it's a kids story, they're all alike; but you know, you gotta get through the plot twists first. Come on, you know as well as I do they all end in 'Happily Ever After', so keep reading."  
  
Sighing, Quatre continued, but hesitantly. "But it came to pass that the little girl's father became very, very, ill-"  
  
"Probably from syphilis."  
  
"Duo!"  
  
"What?"  
  
"Became very ill, and died. Everyone in the house was very sad, the little girl, her stepmother, and even her two stepsisters. And perhaps it was grief, but the stepmother became very bitter and angry, and she took it all out on the little girl.Duo, this is awful!"  
  
"I'm not telling you again, Quatre, read the damn story!"  
  
"Fine! So the stepmother made the girl cook and clean, and do all the house work; even though she had the means for proper help. And it came to pass that the little girl was forced to sleep in the fireplace to stay warm, and her wicked stepsisters began to call her, Cinderella."  
  
"What kind of name is, Cinderella?"  
  
"Trowa, not you too!"  
  
"Sorry, Quatre. Keep reading."  
  
"One day, many years after Cinderella's father died, a proclamation was cast throughout the entire kingdom to find a suitable wife for the prince."  
  
"Anyone else finding this story completely unnerving?" Duo sounded unnerved himself.  
  
"You're only saying that because Relena is a princess and is currently looking for a husband."  
  
"Yeah, and she keeps looking at my man! Trowa, you're available, you go stand in her line of sight for a little while."  
  
"Trowa is most certainly not doing any such thing!"  
  
"Worried Quatre?"  
  
"Not for Trowa! But I may have to kill Relena." They laughed, and Trowa gave him a pleased smile before he turned back to the book.  
  
"Ok, where was I.Oh yes. The proclamation stated that all eligible for marriage young women were to attend the ball to be held at the palace in a fortnight-"  
  
"What's a 'fortnight'?" Shingam's voice was sleepy, and his eyes drooped ever so slightly.  
  
Quatre smiled. "It means two weeks, fourteen days."  
  
"Oh."  
  
"I didn't know that."  
  
"Duo, you don't know anything."  
  
"That's not fair, Heero, I know lots of stuff. I know how to make you purr!"  
  
"He purrs?"  
  
"Trowa!"  
  
"Yep!"  
  
"Duo!"  
  
"ANYWAY!" he cleared his throat. "So the wicked stepmother forced Cinderella make beautiful dresses for her two daughters, but no matter how hard Cinderella tried, she could not make a dress that could hide the ugliness of her stepsister's faces. And Cinderella was a very good seamstress indeed.  
  
"Finally, with hardly an hour before the ball, Cinderella finished her stepsister's dresses, before turning to her wicked stepmother and saying, 'Stepmother, I have done as you asked, and made the most beautiful dresses for my two stepsisters to wear. And as you promised, may I please be allowed to attend the ball?' But the wicked stepmother only cackled evilly, and the two stepsisters only laughed menacingly. 'Cinderella, you simply cannot go to the ball dressed like a cindermaid. And with little more than an hour until the ball begins, you couldn't possibly make a dress in time.'"  
  
"Oh that's it, I'm finding this bitch, and taking her out!"  
  
"Baka, don't swear so much in front of the kids."  
  
"Opps! Sorry."  
  
"Very, very sad, Cinderella ran down into the basement and fell into her bed of cinders, weeping because she would not get to attend the ball. A little while later, she heard the carriage pull away from her house, containing both her stepmother, and her two evil stepsisters. Crying harder than ever, Cinderella barely heard the slight scratching of mice and birds, as they came to watch the kind hearted Cinderella weep. Then suddenly in a cloud of light fog a fairy appeared before Cinderella and said, 'Do not weep child. You have saved many creatures of the forest from being harmed, and in kindness they have asked me to come before you and grant you your hearts desire.' But Cinderella was frightened and said, 'But who are you?' And the kind fairy replied, 'Why Cinderella, I'm you're Fairy Godmother.'"  
  
"What do you think was in those cinders she was sleeping in?"  
  
"Duo!"  
  
"I was wondering more along the lines of 'Fairy' godmother."  
  
"Trowa!"  
  
"Yeah, was it a really cute guy in tights or what?!"  
  
"Both of you shut up!"  
  
In unison, "Sorry, Quatre."  
  
Shingam giggled and Killashandra's eyes held a look of humor. Rubbing his face in exhaustion, he continued the tale of Cinderella.  
  
"'Fairy Godmother?' 'Yes, child. I've come to grant you one wish; what is your heart's desire.' 'Oh Fairy Godmother, more than anything in the world, I want to go to the ball!'"  
  
"The ball?! I'd be wishing for a pad on L-4."  
  
"There was no L-4 when this story was written."  
  
"Why do you have to be so literal all the time, Heero? Fine, how about riches beyond her wildest dreams, and a handsome man to marry."  
  
"The fairy said only one wish."  
  
"Damn it, Heero! Fine, she can wish for a handsome man carrying riches beyond her wildest dreams; happy now?!"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"May Quatre continue now?" Trowa's voice was mock stern at best.  
  
"Sorry, Quatre, keep going. By the way, nice girly voices."  
  
He offered his thanks to Trowa, who smiled kindly back before he glared menacingly at Duo, and then took a deep breath and tried again. "And the Fairy Godmother said to Cinderella, 'Then you shall go to the ball.' And she waved her fairy wand around Cinderella's head, and the rags she wore became a beautiful dress of the finest silks and satins, and her hair was transformed into a cascade of beautiful curls.  
  
"Then the Fairy Godmother took Cinderella into the garden, and from a pumpkin, made the most beautiful carriage for her to arrive in, and from the mice Cinderella had saved from the cat, six white horses, and a fine footman-"  
  
"Now we're talking! Fine footman! Tell us girl, just how fine was he?!"  
  
"He was made from a mouse, guess. And besides that I don't think they meant 'fine' in that sense of the word."  
  
"And more than that, what are you doing checking out someone else's footman?"  
  
"Aaaaaa," Duo stuttered, before closing his mouth under Heero's penetrating gaze.  
  
Quatre groaned before continuing. "But just when it seemed that everything was perfect, Cinderella turned to her Fairy Godmother and lifted up her beautiful dress to reveal that she was still dressed in the shoes of a cindermaid. 'Oh Fairy Godmother, I can't go to the ball wearing these shoes."  
  
"Sounds kind of ungrateful if you ask me."  
  
"No one asked you."  
  
"Well, soooorrrrry."  
  
"But the Fairy Godmother told Cinderella not to worry, and with a wave of her wand changed Cinderella's slippers from rags into beautiful glass slippers."  
  
"Oh I'm not even going to touch that one."  
  
"Cinderella thanked her Fairy Godmother with a kiss on the cheek, because that is how all Fairy Godmothers like to be thanked, before getting into the coach. But the Fairy Godmother had one final warning for Cinderella. 'Child, my magic is strong, but upon the stroke of midnight, my magic will fade like the sun into darkness. Be careful that no one sees you, or they will think you bewitched, and surely han-I'm not reading this anymore!"  
  
"Quatre?" Gently, Trowa sat down next to him.  
  
"Trowa, this story if awful! They're talking about," he glanced down at the two sets of wide-eyed children. "H-A-N-G-I-N-G Cinderella for being a witch. I'm not reading this to them, it's-it's evil!" He knew he was being irrational, but he just couldn't bring himself to read the words to these two children.  
  
Trowa smiled before wrapping an arm about his waist and giving him a light kiss on the cheek. "Do whatever you feel best. We'll stand behind you."  
  
"Quatre," he turned to look down at Shingam. "Can we please hear the rest of the story. Killa likes Cinderella; and I want to hear what she's going to do to the evil stepmother."  
  
He could hardly refuse that. "Ok, well anyway, Cinderella arrived at the ball.and as she entered, she immediately bewitched the prince. From that moment on, they were inseparable. He danced every dance with her, and she with him. They were like two blessed people, dancing the night away. And the king was happy because his son had found a wife, and the queen was happy because her son seemed very much in love with the beautiful young woman.  
  
"But Cinderella was having such a wonderful time that she failed to realize that the midnight hour was upon them. As the bells began to toll, Cinderella raced out of the palace, and away from her prince charming. But just as she was about to enter her carriage-the prince not far behind her- she lost one of her glass slippers on the steps. Knowing she couldn't run back and get it and still leave the prince's sight before the twelfth toll, she abandoned her shoe. And as the bells tolled midnight, her dress turned back to rags, her carriage turned back into a pumpkin, and her horses and coachman turned back into white mice."  
  
"I still can't believe she gave up her shoe! Obviously she doesn't know how hard it is to make glass into shoes, and more to the point, how hard it is to find a shoe you can dance all night in. I'm still looking for my perfect pair, and I can tell you no twelve o'clock bell is going to make me give it up!"  
  
"Duo, I'm only going to tell you this one more time-"  
  
"I know, I know, 'Duo, shut up!' there I said it for you."  
  
"Now just do it!"  
  
"Do what?"  
  
"AHHHHHHHH!"  
  
Chuckling beside him, Trowa rubbed large circles in his back and encouraged him to continue. The pleading looks on two children's faces had him continuing.  
  
"When the ball was over and Cinderella was back home crying for her lost prince, her wicked stepmother and evil stepsisters returned and spoke nothing but how horrible it was that that princess-for surely a young woman dressed so beautifully could be nothing else-had stolen the prince's heart and then run away. And Cinderella did her best not to cry as her evil sisters talked of the young princess's beauty and charm; and her wicked stepmother admonished her for not being so beautiful and lovely.  
  
"However, the next day, another proclamation was read, and it said that the prince had found the slipper of the beautiful young woman, and whoever's foot fit the slipper, he would marry and make princess of the entire kingdom."  
  
"This prince sounds kind of desperate to me."  
  
"Trowa, he's only trying to find his true love."  
  
"He knows his true love after only one night of dancing and her foot size?"  
  
"Well.yes. It's love at first sight."  
  
"It's ridiculous."  
  
"You mean to tell me you didn't fall in love with me at first sight?"  
  
Quatre relished the trapped look that crossed Trowa's face then. He was curious how his lover planned to work his way out of this one.  
  
But Trowa only smiled and offered Quatre a quick kiss. "Not quiet, but I did fall in love with you at first music note. Will that appease you?"  
  
He smiled brilliantly, leaning up for another kiss. "That works beautifully."  
  
"Ok guys, you're sickeningly sweet scene is making the kids ill. Can we continue please."  
  
Quatre glared at Duo before once again continuing. "On the last day of the search, the prince and his man came to the door of the house, but the evil stepmother was embarrassed by Cinderella's appearance and made her hide in the cellar. When the prince came in, the wicked stepmother had her two daughters try on the shoe. And when it didn't fit she secretly commanded them to go and-This is nuts! Who the hell wrote this thing?!"  
  
"What's wrong now, Quatre?" The way Duo said it, as if he'd been causing all the delays in the story up to this point, had him nearly out of his seat and strangling his best friend. Only Trowa's sure grip about his waist had him rooted to the spot.  
  
Calmly, Trowa took the book from his hands and read over the passage, his eyebrows lifting when he came to the part Quatre had stopped at.  
  
"See! I'm not reading that! It's a bedtime story for crying out loud! That'll give them nightmares for weeks!"  
  
"I'm sure," Heero said. "It can't be any worse then what they've already had to deal with."  
  
Instantly the mood sobered; and Quatre felt suddenly drained. They could joke and make fun all they wanted, but the fact remained, two children, who had been through hell and back, were resting next to him, wrapped together like long time lovers, listening intently to a story that would scare a normal child, but probably didn't even register with them. He couldn't help but wish it did scare them; at least that way he'd know they hadn't been totally dehumanized.  
  
Trowa's voice ended the silence as he began to read, his deep and soft timber lulling even Quatre to sleep. "And when it did not fit, she secretly commanded them to go and cut off the heels of their feet to make the shoe fit. But the prince's man took notice and refused to let them try it on. Angrily, the wicked stepmother threw her cane and in the process, broke the glass slipper.  
  
"The prince was beside himself with sadness; and as Cinderella watched from underneath the stairs, the prince began to cry. So Cinderella came up from the cellar and knelt down in front of the prince, and bestowed upon him the other glass slipper-the one she had not lost the night of the ball. And when the prince asked her how she had come upon the treasure, she could not lie and told the prince of her Fairy Godmother and wicked stepmother's broken promise.  
  
"The prince was so relieved to have found the beautiful maiden, that they were married that very same day. And Cinderella, now a princess and no longer a cindermaid, had her stepsister's heads cut off, and her wicked stepmother tarred, feathered, and nailed into a barrel which was rolled down a rocky cliff. And together she lived with her prince, happily ever after."  
  
Hesitantly, Trowa set the book aside and turned to him. All Quatre could do was shake his head. How had a bedtime story turned so ugly? How could parents of centuries gone by, have told these very same stories to the children they loved? It was simply evil!  
  
"Quatre."  
  
He turned to regard Shingam, who now held a sleeping Killashandra in his arms.  
  
"Yes, Shingam?"  
  
"That was a good story. We liked how Cinderella got to live happily ever after."  
  
And then Quatre knew the answer. Children were children. A story embellished for adults is lost on the ears of children searching for dreams. He smiled down at Shingam.  
  
"I'm glad. Now you go two sleep and I'll see you in the morning." Leaning down, he kissed Shingam's forehead, and likewise the sleeping Killa, before standing and moving aside. One by one, the others kissed Shingam, and even Heero bent down to drop a light kiss to the child's head.  
  
And as he left them to their dreaming, Quatre couldn't help but wonder if Shingam and Killashandra's story would end happily ever after.  
  
After saying goodbye to Heero and Duo, he moved to the couch and sat next to Trowa.  
  
"Cinderella."  
  
"Cinderella." Trowa repeated, and draped an arm around his shoulders.  
  
"I think we should stick to regular children's stories, this fairytale stuff is cruel."  
  
"I agree."  
  
And with that, Quatre leaned up and kissed Trowa softly, before standing and pulling his lover up with him. Together, they entered their bedroom and allowed the door to shut silently behind them. 


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 16  
  
Slowly, Quatre opened his eyes, the most beautiful sight before him. On his side and tucked into Quatre's body, lay Trowa. Eyes still closed with sleep while his long bangs lay tousled. In sleep, Trowa's defenses were down and on the occasions that Quatre was allowed to watch him uninhibited, he couldn't help but wonder what Trowa would have been like had he been given a loving home and family. Mentally he shook himself; Trowa might not have had those things as a child but Quatre was going to make sure that he had them for the rest of his life.  
  
Thinking back on the last few months, he shuddered to think of all the things he'd put Trowa through. Mornings like these, when Trowa still slept peacefully, protected by his strong embrace, Quatre couldn't help but analyze the pain and suffering Trowa must have gone through for him. The thought brought tears to his eyes and gently, he pulled Trowa closer; holding him tighter, but not tight enough.  
  
"Quatre?" Sleep fogged, Trowa stirred and tried to sit up.  
  
"Trowa, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you." He took the opportunity afforded him and wiped the pre-tears from his eyes; it wouldn't do to have Trowa upset so early in the morning.  
  
"It's alright, it was a good way to wake up." Clumsily, Trowa leaned over him to drop a good morning kiss on his lips. Quatre wanted nothing more than to wrap Trowa up and never let him go, to protect him from the world and keep him safe. It was the same thing he'd wanted to do since the moment he'd met the taller boy so many years ago--nothing had changed. He'd keep Trowa safe, him and the children, and for Trowa's sake, he'd take care of himself as best he could.  
  
"I'm glad you liked it. Maybe I'll start waking you up by latching onto you every morning." He smiled brightly before claiming another kiss.  
  
"I'd like that." And then Trowa was over him, his body pressed intimately into his own. They were so perfect together; bodies built for each other and each other alone. Trowa's hand traveled the expanse of his chest, while his own hands traced the slim hips of the man above him. Lips met and separated, while tongues dueled in a mock battle that would result in a tie and two winners. He felt his body stir to life and allowed his hand to travel across Trowa, to the valley between hip and something so much more rewarding--instantly, Trowa's body responded. It was so right, so perfect for them to be together, to take and give pleasure from each other. He felt Trowa's responding desire through the partially open link and he sent his own raging desires though as well, forcing the link open with the rush of a thousand emotions.  
  
Trowa's hand reached out for him, and at the precious contact, Quatre couldn't help but shudder and moan.  
  
"Quatre?"  
  
Springing apart, Quatre turned his head to look over the side of the bed, and sure enough, there in the corner sat Shingam and Killashandra; the girl's head resting in Shingam's lap.  
  
"Shingam!" Behind him he felt the bed shift as Trowa sat up. As his partner took in the sight of two intently watching children, he groaned before dropping back onto the bed. Quatre couldn't have said it better himself.  
  
Willing his body to act appropriately, he spoke. "Shingam, Killa. It's ok. How did the two of you get in?" He was fairly certain he'd locked the door last night, but he could have been wrong, they'd both been tired.  
  
"I watched Trowa put in the passcode yesterday. Killa wanted to see if you were feeling better. Does you're arm still hurt from saving us?"  
  
The tension drained from his body instantly and he turned to receive confirmation from Trowa before he gestured to the children to come to the bed. "Come here you two."  
  
Slowly, Killashandra rose, with Shingam taking her hand and bringing them towards the bed. Leaning over, Quatre lifted Killashandra over his own body and handed her to Trowa's waiting arms before he leaned back down for Shingam, whom he rested between them.  
  
"I'm fine this morning; in fact, my arm doesn't even tingle today. But thank you very much for your concern Killa, and you too Shingam." For a moment the boy seemed to beam before he took the girl's hand and offered a smile to Trowa as well.  
  
"Good morning Shingam, did you and Killashandra sleep well?" Trowa was fully awake now, and he held Killa sideways, her head tucked in the crook of his arm.  
  
Shingam nodded. "We slept really well. It was warm; Killa and I like being warm at night."  
  
The image of the two huddled together suddenly flashed through his mind. "Shingam, is that why Killa sleeps so close to you at night; because it was so cold where you lived before?"  
  
Shingam nodded. "It was cold all the time. Killa stays with me because I'll protect her from everything. She's my responsibility and we stay warm together."  
  
Again, struck by the lives they must have led Quatre, reached down and lightly ran his fingers through Shingam's hair. At first the boy looked as if he was going to pull away but then he leaned into the touch, begging for more with the actions of his body. They were so deprived, of touch, of everything; how could another living being do this to children? He watched Trowa brush blond curls from Killashandra's face before laying a kiss on her forehead. Quatre offered him a smile when Trowa looked to him.  
  
"Well we have a big day today. Trowa, Heero, Duo and I are taking you two to get new clothes; doesn't that sound like fun?" Shingam opened his eyes but said nothing, only watched him. "It'll be so much fun, you'll see. Duo loves to go shopping for new clothes; and I'm sure Killa will love all the new dresses and pretty things we'll get her. And Shingam, I'm sure we'll be able to get you and Killa a kite of your very own; that way the two of you and Marieminna can all play together. Does that sound good to you?" Hesitantly, Shingam nodded.  
  
"Ok. The first thing we have to do is get up! The second thing I think, is we should all take showers. I didn't take one yesterday and I think Trowa may start sleeping on the couch pretty soon if I don't." He caught his lover's eye and offered a quick wink.  
  
"I can take my own shower but Killa can go with Trowa."  
  
Nodding their consent, they rose, Killa with Trowa, Shingam with Quatre. Moving to the adjoining bathroom, Quatre set Shingam down as he crossed to the shower and turned it on. Almost instantly the water heated up, and he turned to Shingam with smiling eyes. "Do you want to go first?"  
  
For a second Shingam looked scared; and then the look passed, replaced by a grimly determined look. Stepping forward, he stripped off his clothes and moved to watch the water through the glass door. Reaching out with small hands, he touched the pane of glass before looking to Quatre and gesturing for him to open the door. Offering another smile, Quatre pulled the magnetic handle free and watched as Shingam gingerly stepped inside; he closed the door behind him.  
  
Turning back towards Trowa, he watched as his lover held Killa in one arm, his other hand running over her locks reverently. Trowa was so gentle, so loving. It was so hard for Quatre to imagine that he'd had little to no love and affection growing up, since Trowa showered it upon all he knew. It hadn't always been that away; and Quatre wasn't modest enough not to take some credit for himself; but it was Trowa's desire to become a different man than the one he'd been, that made the changes so dramatic.  
  
Trowa caught him staring and offered a knowing smile. Against his better judgment, he found himself wishing the two children had simply waited for them in the living room.  
  
"Quatre?"  
  
Turning he saw Shingam looking out at him through the glass door. Moving swiftly, he knelt down before the closed door and smiled disarmingly to ease Shingam's sudden and obvious nervousness; the boy was nearly shaking.  
  
"Are you alright, Shingam?"  
  
"I-I can't-" and suddenly the boy was backing up, moving away from the hole he'd rubbed in the fogged glass.  
  
"Shingam?"  
  
The sound of sniffles echoing throughout the bathroom had him in a panic. He turned quickly to get Trowa's opinion, but his partner seemed as equally worried as he was. Deciding to take action, Quatre warned Shingam of his intentions and then slowly opened the door.  
  
Inside, he found Shingam sitting in the far corner of the stall, his small hands hiding his tear-reddened face. Quatre didn't know what was wrong and fear stole over him as he called the boy's name but received no answer.  
  
Feeling a presence behind him, he turned to regard Trowa. "I don't know what's wrong."  
  
"Perhaps, he's frightened. You might want to go in with him."  
  
"But I don't want to scare him; and if he doesn't respond, I may startle him."  
  
Trowa shook his head. "They seem to be.attuned to you; Shingam won't likely be startled."  
  
Making up his mind, he shed his own clothing and cautiously stepped into the shower. Kneeling down on the water warmed floor, he gently brushed Shingam's hair from his face.  
  
"It's ok, Shingam; whatever it is, it's going to be ok. I promise, I won't let anything hurt you. I promise."  
  
Suddenly, gray eyes were up and boring into his soul. Those eyes seemed to be analyzing every word he'd ever said in his life, searching for lies and broken promises. He felt completely unworthy, as if he'd let them all down before he'd even had a chance to help them. Shingam, Killashandra, Trowa, he hadn't been able to protect any of them. Why did he even continue to try?  
  
"Quatre, don't." Trowa's voice sounded from the other side of the pane, and when he looked up, it was to find Trowa watching him intently, a stern look upon his partially hidden face. Closing his eyes momentarily, he willed away the self-contempt and focused on the task at hand. Briefly he nodded to let Trowa know the moment had passed.  
  
He was about to turn back to Shingam, when a warm but shivering body melted into his. Small arms wrapped about his neck, and he felt Shingam burrow into his shoulder. Pulling the boy completely into him, Quatre held him close, laying light kisses onto hair and skin that had received far too few. He whispered soft words of encouragement to him; words he wished his own father had whispered to him long ago.  
  
"Shhh, it's alright now. You're safe now. Nothing's going to hurt you, you're safe. I'm here; I'm not going to let anything or anyone hurt you ever again, Shingam, ever again. Shhhh, don't cry. It's alright. Shhh, it's alright." But try as he might, the boy in his arms continued to weep, silent sobs issued forth from his tiny body, and it was all Quatre could do to keep the boy from falling apart.  
  
Behind him, he heard the magnetic release of the door latch, and he rose, taking Shingam with him before stepping back and into Trowa's waiting arms. He turned his head to look worriedly at his lover before giving a worried smile to the girl in Trowa's arms. Killashandra remained unfazed, as if the situation meant nothing to her, and indeed, didn't even register; but her eyes weren't looking at Shingam, instead they starred intently at the downpour of water from the spick.  
  
Trowa turned them so that he and Shingam were protected from the downpour of water but still offered some measure of heat. He continued to reassure Shingam, promising safety and happiness as best he could. But it was Killashandra that ended Shingam's suffering.  
  
Coming out of her self induced isolation, she moved her too tiny hand to lightly brush against Shingam's hair. Immediately, the boy pulled away from him and turned to look at the small girl that seemed so much a part of him.  
  
His voice held the last note of tears. "I'm ok, Killa. I'm not hurt." The boy's own hand reached for hers, and then they were connected, hand in hand; holding on for dear life.  
  
Quatre wondered if his heart would ever stop breaking for these children he held so close to his body. Softly, he spoke to them. "It's alright. Both of you can really start to relax now. Trowa and I aren't going to let anyone or anything hurt either one of you ever again." One set of green crystalline eyes and one stony gray settled upon him, and he nuzzled Shingam's cheek to drive the point home. He watched Trowa do the same for Killa.  
  
"Now Shingam, tell me what's wrong; whatever it is, Trowa and I will try to make it right." Trowa nodded to the boy, and then Shingam turned to look at him, a sad expression on his face.  
  
"I couldn't reach it."  
  
Confused, Quatre asked. "Couldn't reach what?"  
  
Miserably, Shingam pointed to the container of soap that sat on a shelf two feet taller than he was.  
  
Relieved, Quatre shook his head. "Oh Shingam, it's ok. I would have gotten it down for you if you'd only told me. You don't have to cry-"  
  
"I failed! I couldn't do it on my own!" Anger caused him to go ridged in Quatre's arms, and he expected the boy to begin struggling any moment.  
  
He tried to explain. "You didn't fail. You couldn't reach the soap, it's very high up. That doesn't mean you failed. You had to ask for help, that's true; but you can ask for help now. Neither Trowa nor I will ever be mad at you because you asked us for help. You and Killa mustn't ever be afraid to come to us if you need help. Just like when you and Killa called for me, you shouldn't be afraid that I won't come, or that I'll be angry or upset when I do; and the same goes for Trowa. Shingam, you didn't fail, and I bet that's exactly what Killa told you, isn't it?"  
  
Stunned eyes focused on his, and after a quick nod from the boy, Quatre realized he'd hit the nail right on the head. Behind him, Trowa laid a reassuring hand on the small of his back.  
  
"Killa said we should trust you. I-I'm going to try. I'm going to try and trust you, really I will, Quatre. I'll try." Pulling him back against his chest, Quatre rocked the boy slowly, careful to whisper only encouraging things into his ears. He kissed Shingam's forehead, before turning to Trowa and alleviating the tension.  
  
"Well, I guess we better get them washed up." At Trowa's nod, he turned back to Shingam. "Want me to wash your hair? Not because you can't do it yourself but because you want me too?" Hesitantly, Shingam looked to Killashandra, before glancing at Trowa, and then finally turning back towards him and nodding his head.  
  
Offering him a huge smile, he and Trowa worked as a team to carefully wet both children down and effectively remove the dirt they'd missed only a day before. Again, Shingam insisted on cleansing his own body, but in childlike wonder, insisted on washing Quatre's chest with the soaped up washcloth. Laughing at the ticklish sensation, the three of them, himself, Shingam and Trowa laughed and giggled, while Killa's face remained without expression, yet her eyes held a look of wonder and delight.  
  
Trowa washed Killashandra, and even managed to tease a look of almost happiness from her eyes by insisting he wash her nose three times to get rid of some freckles he saw there-only to decide in the end that she should keep them since they made her look so cute.  
  
When both children were washed, the lovers helped each other lather their hair, before they took turns rinsing the suds away. More than once, Quatre marveled at the easy way Trowa had taken to Killashandra; it seemed he always wore a smile for her or made some new face to bring a light into her eyes. He watched Shingam help Trowa wash the tips of his bangs, and laughed as his lover shook his head vigorously, showering them all with water droplets; even Shingam laughed childishly.  
  
Finally, Trowa took Shingam from his arms, and with only half regret that it wasn't Trowa's hands that did the work, Quatre washed his body. He however could not refrain from the half-concealed looks of lust he sent Trowa's way, nor could he deny the struggle they both faced not to allow their bodies to betray their thoughts. Turn about was fair play however, and when Trowa treated him to the same treatment, Quatre had to bury his face in Killashandra's hair to keep from being encompassed by his early morning thoughts.  
  
When finally all were clean, the shower turned off, and two children sufficiently dried, towels were wrapped around their waists until such time as he and Trowa got the children back to their room and dressed.  
  
With Killashandra now sitting on the counter in front of him and Shingam to the right of Trowa, the two lovers began their own morning ritual. Reaching for his toothbrush, he began the arduous task of preventing cavities with toothpaste made half from sugar. Beside him, Trowa reached for his shaving cream, and after lathering on a generous dose, began to meticulously rake his razor over the foamy mixture.  
  
In the mirror, Quatre watched Shingam's face register awe and amazement as Trowa continued to shave, removing the white layer from the tan skin tone underneath. Killashandra too watched Trowa with a look of what could have been amazement; and Quatre smiled at her before tickling her under her chin.  
  
But as always, Trowa was an observant person, and with three people watching him shave, it was no wonder he didn't crack under the pressure. Turning to him, Trowa offered a wink before leaning down to Shingam and making a show of examining his face.  
  
"Hmmmmm." Shingam stared wide-eyed at him, as slowly Trowa moved the boy's face first left and then right. Finally, he pointed a finger to Shingam's right cheek and said, "Ahhaa! Just as I thought. Quatre would you take a look at this?" For a moment Shingam looked scared before Quatre offered him a wink and leaned down so he and Trowa's cheeks were touching. "Do you see that tiny little hair, right.there! What do you think; I'm afraid it has to go?"  
  
Playing along, Quatre nodded his head solemnly. "I have to agree, we'll have to perform drastic measures."  
  
Trowa reached out to tickle Shingam, and as the boy giggled, he answered. "Yes. I'm afraid we'll have to do a hair-ectomy. But first we need to make an important decision." He looked to Quatre, joy and mischief sparkling in his eyes. It was a look Quatre hadn't seen in a long time, one that he hoped the children would put there more and more often.  
  
"And what might that important decision be, Dr. Trowa?" He could barely contain his own glee as Trowa rubbed their noses together at the 'Dr' comment.  
  
"We need to decide what shaving cream to use to get the job done properly! As you'll recall Nurse Quatre," Trowa smirked triumphantly. "We have two choices. Choice number one is your brand." He turned and whispered conspiratorially at Shingam who sat with a wide smile on his face. "Most call it chemical X. I think it's poison."  
  
"It's not poison! You just don't like that it doesn't foam up like yours does."  
  
"Aha, my point exactly, chemical X." He winked at Shingam who giggled. "As I was saying, then there's my brand, famous for close shaves and a scent irresistible to both men and women alike."  
  
"I'll say. It does make you smell awfully tasty, Dr. Trowa." He leered wickedly at his lover and laughed when Trowa had to blush and duck away.  
  
Trowa cleared his throat. "As I was saying, I believe we should choose my brand but of course it's up to the patient to decide. Shingam, which would you prefer, Quatre's or mine?"  
  
Pointing his finger at Trowa, Quatre mouthed the words, "Pick Trowa's." Before Shingam laughed outright and pointed to Trowa.  
  
"Good, then we're decided. Nurse Quatre, will you please hand me the can, and don't try anything funny with that cup and brush set you're still using from a millenium ago." Trowa was smiling now, his own resolve long since disintegrated under the strain of their humorous exchange.  
  
Handing him the metal canister, he caught his lover's eye and knew Trowa understood the hungry look he found there.  
  
Shaking his head, Trowa dispensed the foam into his hand before carefully applying it to Shingam's smooth face. Diligently, Trowa made sure to cover all the places the boy would on day have to shave before rinsing his hands off and reaching for Quatre's razor. At Quatre's questioning look he responded, "Mine isn't exactly safe for such play." And sure enough, while his own razor had blades on only one side, Trowa's was little more than what was once called a straight razor. It was often a topic of their mornings as Quatre marveled that Trowa didn't slice open his neck every time he dragged the dangerous object across it. More than once, the play had resulted in Quatre acting fearful for Trowa's life and insisting on shaving his partner. Usually they ended up back in bed. For some reason shaving was a turn on for both of them.  
  
With cautious play-and strange sound effects-Trowa whipped the plastic part of the razor across Shingam's face, and warned the boy to quit giggling, or he might miss and shave off a little of his nose on accident. The entire process lasted five minutes, but would have only taken a couple if Trowa and himself had not fallen into fits of laughter as they tried to finish the task they'd started.  
  
When finally, Shingam's face was "hair free" and all the excess foam was removed, Trowa gave him a lesson in checking for stay hairs. "Take your hand like this," he demonstrated by cupping his hand around his chin. "Now rub your hand up both cheeks and down under your chin. You have to feel for any left over prickly hairs." Loudly Quatre laughed, wrapping Killashandra against him as he leaned into the countertop. "If you're lucky, someday you'll have someone you really care about to help you with this part, watch." Trowa turned to Quatre then and presented his face for inspection. Playing along, Quatre examined Trowa's face for a moment, turning it left and right, as Trowa had done to Shingam's minutes earlier.  
  
Satisfied he proclaimed, "Very smooth, Trowa. Good work. Shingam why don't you come over here and Killa can take a look and check you over." Standing eagerly, the boy moved across the counter to Killashandra, who looked dumbly up at him for a moment before extending her hand to caress his face.  
  
Finally, Shingam pulled back and said, "Killa say's it's good. I'm smooth like Trowa."  
  
They roared with laughter, as Quatre held onto Trowa for support while his taller lover braced himself against the counter. Shingam's face and the tenseness of the early situation were too much for them. Quatre laughed for Shingam's innocence and for Trowa's strange and sudden sense of joyful childishness. There was no way to describe the love he felt for Trowa in those few minutes. It was like watching his lover become all that's he'd ever envisioned him to be. In the back of his mind, where even he didn't dare to hope, he saw the man Trowa would be to their own children, and he nearly wept with happiness.  
  
"You are smooth, Shingam. And you know what Killa? Someday we'll have Trowa show you how to do the same thing. But instead of your face, Trowa will show you how to shave your legs."  
  
"I will not! Besides, that's more your department, isn't it beloved?"  
  
Comically stunned, Quatre stared shocked at his lover. "And what exactly do you mean by that?"  
  
Trowa shrugged. "Well, you're the one that insists on absolutely no chest hair."  
  
"I don't insist! It just hasn't-you know.well.I'm only twenty! I can't help it if I'm a late developer!"  
  
Trowa laughed heartily then, pulling him close and wrapping an arm around his waist before dropping a hard and impassioned kiss on his mouth. Quatre barely had time to get into it before Trowa pulled away with a wink. "Late developer my ass."  
  
Bending over to give Trowa's a look, Quatre smiled wickedly. "And what a lovely ass it is. I wonder what can be done with such a fine specimen of a man such as yourself?"  
  
Trowa groaned, the white towel Quatre was pressed against betraying his partner's immediate condition. "You're killing me this morning, lover."  
  
Quatre kept the evil look upon his face as he "accidentally" brushed against the slight raise in the towel. "Just taking a little revenge for having to wake up all by myself yesterday. But we won't get into it right now." Stepping away from Trowa's siren like body, Quatre set both Shingam and Killashandra on their feet.  
  
"Ok you two, let's get you into some clothes and then we'll go to the city and get you both some new clothes and a few other odds and ends. Come on." He propelled the two children from the bathroom and into the bedroom before changing his mind and ushering them out the door. "Shingam, you and Killashandra get dressed and then sit on the couch and wait for Trowa and I, understand? We'll be right out, and no keying in the passcode." At the boy's nod, Quatre shut the door and quickly punched in the lock pass.  
  
Coming out of the bathroom, Trowa didn't have time to react as Quatre roughly pushed him again the wall and slammed their bodies together; crushing Trowa's mouth to his. It was savage and rushed, but Quatre was determined to claim as much of Trowa as he could before the morning was through.  
  
Skilled hands yanked the towel from Quatre's hips, and he did the same for Trowa, before they were pressed intimately together, both having a hard time breathing.  
  
Trowa was the first to pull away. "Quatre, there is a four year old and a five year old sitting on our couch in the living room. Beloved, as much as I want to continue, we can't."  
  
Growling, Quatre pulled Trowa forward. "Too much talking." And then again claimed his full lips. Hands returned to where they'd previously been startled from and Quatre gasped at the pure delight of Trowa's hand on him, surrounding him. Shifting, he moved to Trowa's neck and nibbled his way down his lover's chest and stomach before coming to his knees in silent worship of Trowa's glorious body.  
  
"Quatre, we can't."  
  
"Yes we can."  
  
"Quatre, if you start this, I'm not letting you go until it's finished, and you promised them you'd be out in just a moment. Don't make me force you to be late." Trowa was trying to be rational, but all Quatre wanted was to settle some wayward thought in his mind to reclaim Trowa as his own; mind, body, and soul. He was willing to begin with body anyway.  
  
Sudden images of two children sitting patiently, coupled with Trowa's mixed messages of continue and stop coming from the link, and Quatre finally made one of the hardest decisions in his entire life. He stopped.  
  
Sighing, he rose to his feet and again brutally captured Trowa's mouth with his own. The kiss spoke of promise and unabandoned lust. Quatre wasn't finished, they weren't finished; not by a long shot. Reaching his hand behind Trowa, Quatre tapped him on the ass before quickly turning and throwing a coy look over his shoulder. "We'll resume where we left off later." And as an after thought, "You look beautiful today, Trowa. I can't wait to show you off." And with that, he disappeared into their walk in closet.  
  
Quatre didn't see it, but he heard Trowa's shuddering breath, and smiled with pride. 


	12. Chapter 12

* * *  
  
"I can't believe we're driving in this thing! I feel like such a 'somebody.'" Duo's voice rang through the closed cabin of the limo. Quatre knew their silly sports car and motorcycle wouldn't accommodate the purchases he planned to obtain today. Shingam and Killashandra need new, well, everything, not to mention the presents he planned to get them for Christmas; he did only have ten more days.  
  
Shaking his head he turned to glance quickly at Trowa. His lover sat beside him, Killashandra situated comfortably in his lap. The little girl had a fist full of Trowa's trademark sweater and didn't seem to be ready to let go. Quatre had hand picked the sweater from their closet before they'd left the bedroom to collect the children. It held significant meaning to both lovers, in that it was the very same sweater Trowa'd worn the night they'd made love for the first time. He'd noted the recognition in Trowa's eyes the moment he'd carried it from the closet and presented it for approval. It was an unspoken promise of later, one that both knew would end the last long suffering week they'd been apart physically.  
  
Across from him, Duo and Heero sat with Shingam next to Heero. The boy had been quiet since they'd left but while they'd still been in the living room, he'd been very different. Shingam had attached himself to Trowa, even starting conversations with his tall partner. He suspected that Shingam was duly impressed with Trowa's bathroom antics and no longer saw him as a threat. He couldn't be sure since he couldn't read the boy but there was an easy way Shingam now looked to both himself and Trowa, and Quatre was grateful beyond words.  
  
"Duo, it's just a limo-a really long car. It's no big deal, I used to ride everywhere in them."  
  
"Yeah, but that's just it, you were in them all the time, I hardly ever get to. By they way, how come we never ride around in this puppy anyway, it just sits in the garage."  
  
Trowa smiled. "That's not true."  
  
Quatre felt his cheeks color at the remembered memory of one dark night when he and Trowa had taken the limo to a very-secluded-area, and proceeded to add it to the list of objects they'd christened.  
  
"Oh I see that blush! You and Trowa have had sex in this car, haven't you! Ohhhhh I'm jealous, Heero, buy me a limo!"  
  
"No."  
  
"But Quatre's got a limo, and I want one too. Think of all the fun things we could do in the back! It's got two seats, Heero." The last part was said in a seductive voice and Quatre had to laugh at the look of "shut up or die" lust that ran across Heero's face.  
  
Hoping to end the sexual tension that now permeated the car, he turned to Shingam. "Well, are you and Killa excited about going shopping? We'll stop for lunch first and then buy you both some new clothes. There's only one store in town that specializes in ready-made children's clothes, and since the both of you need something to wear right away, we'll only have to hit one clothing store. Then we'll head over to the toy store and see if we can find you and Killa a kite. Does that sound good?"  
  
Shingam paused for a moment before nodding his head and smiling brightly at Killashandra. "Killa's excited about the kite."  
  
Beside him, Trowa snuggled the child in his arms tighter; Quatre smiled.  
  
They continued into town in relative companionable silence. Once in a while Duo would say something, and Heero would shut him up, one way or another. Quatre on the other hand couldn't help driving Trowa crazy by lightly fingering the material of Trowa's sweater and barely moving the fingers he had wrapped around Trowa's inner thigh. Trowa was going to kill him pretty soon.  
  
Then Duo said something that caught his attention. "Hey Q, with the tinting on these windows, we can't see out, and all those people that should be thinking I'm some Bigshot, can't see us right?"  
  
Quatre nodded. The limo was made for absolute privacy, including state of the art tinting capabilities. Basically with the flip of a switch, the windows could be darkened to prevent all forms of enhanced mechanical spying technology from seeing the goings on inside. However, the passengers couldn't see out either, it was a trade-off he'd been willing to make at the time.  
  
"Well, be a pal and let me stand in the spot light for a little while, their might be a really cute guy out there." Heero growled while Duo smirked.  
  
Catering to Duo, Quatre released the tint control and watched as the windows went from pure black, to crystal clear.  
  
"Better." Trowa said sighing.  
  
"Trowa, why didn't you tell me you wanted the windows clear?"  
  
His love shrugged. "It being black like that.it's almost like being in space."  
  
The link flashed with checked but remembered fear, and Quatre firmly berated himself for putting Trowa in a situation that reminded him of the terrifying time he'd spent adrift in outer space. He reached his hand up to gently run through Trowa's bangs, a comforting gesture he'd learned long ago eased the tension from Trowa's body. How could he have been so stupid!  
  
"KILLA, LOOK!!!" Suddenly, Shingam was up and standing on the seat, his faced pressed firmly against the window. Before any of them could say anything, Shingam jumped from his seat to Killashandra's and wrenched the girl from Trowa's grip; then proceeded to lift and push her up against the window.  
  
Trowa reacted, grabbing Shingam about the waist and swinging the boy away from the window, to sit firmly planted in his lap, next he tugged Killashandra into a sitting position on the bench seat. Both children seemed not to notice, staring out the window at the traffic and mountain ranges beyond.  
  
Startled and unnerved, Heero reacted first. "Shingam, you cannot do that again." This time, Shingam looked at Heero, a stunned look on his face. "It's dangerous for you not to be seated while the car is moving, do you understand, you could get hurt!" Heero wasn't loud, just very, very commanding, the same voice he used to use when he'd talked to them during the war.  
  
In Trowa's lap, Shingam seemed to flinch under Heero's tone before softly nodding his head and turning back to watch the scenery pass by. Trowa caught onto the next part.  
  
"Shingam, why did you get so excited when the windows were cleared?"  
  
The boy looked at him as if he were crazy before turning to Quatre, a look of renewed wonder on his face. "We didn't know it was so big, Quatre?"  
  
Confused he asked. "What was big?"  
  
"The Earth."  
  
His heart broke, cracked into a thousand pieces, and shattered. Around him the others felt the same way, and there was such sadness coming through the link to make Quatre want to cry. Had they really never seen the Earth? Hadn't they ever seen anything besides that torturous room they'd been in when he'd found them? God it hurt so much.  
  
Duo somehow managed to save them all.  
  
Reaching into Trowa's lap, Duo gathered Shingam close and held him tightly. "You know what Kid? The world's a lot bigger than what you and Killashandra can see from these windows. You see that mountain over there? Someday, I'll take you and Killashandra to that mountain and we'll climb to the top, and you can see half of the world. But until then, I think we'll get the two of you a globe and some really cool books on places all over the world. You'll love them! And I promise, someday, I'll take you to New America. My parents were from there, and we'll go visit my hometown or something like that. How's that sound? Oh and don't forget, we're all spending New Years in China with Wufei and Sally-trust me, you'll love the fireworks they have in that country, the most beautiful things you've ever seen."  
  
Shingam listened intently to every word Duo said, absorbing every syllable and committing it to memory. It was written on his face, the fascination he felt that the world was bigger even that what he could now see. Quatre smiled. When he turned he saw too, that Killa was listening to Duo, and while her face held no expression, her eyes seemed to have brightened at the possibilities.  
  
* * *  
  
He'd wanted to go to a nice place for lunch, somewhere he could get Killa and Shingam something easily digestible and yet decent tasting.  
  
Duo had convinced him to go to the mall food court.  
  
That had been his first mistake in an afternoon that bordered on near intolerable.  
  
The food court had been loud and obnoxious. Duo preferred fast food to all other kinds and had insisted that they all wait at one of the many tables for him to return with their orders. Mentally, Quatre had kicked himself even then, his instincts told him nothing good could come from this, and he should have listened.  
  
"Ok, foods on!" Duo presented a tray for inspection before handing Quatre back his credit card. "I got something for everybody."  
  
An assortment of high fat, low nutritional value foods lay on two day- glow orange trays, and Quatre shuddered at the unappetizing color staring him in the face. Then upon closer examination of the food he got testy.  
  
"Duo, you were suppose to get the children soup. I don't see any soup here."  
  
"Relax Q. I got them something better! Pizza!"  
  
"Pizza! You idiot, they can't eat pizza!"  
  
"Oh sure they can, all kids can eat pizza."  
  
"Not my kids!" There was a menacing tone to Quatre's voice, and he ignored the people around them that began to stare. Duo didn't seem to notice.  
  
"Lighten up! Here look." Duo lifted the plate containing one slice of pepperoni pizza and placed it in front of Shingam. For his part, the boy stared at the thing like it was from another planet. "Go on Shingam, try it, you'll love it!"  
  
Turning the plate three times, Shingam finally lifted the slice of pizza to his nose and smelled it, then leaning forward, he took a bite.  
  
"There! See Quatre, he likes it."  
  
Duo didn't notice the disgusted look on Shingam's face. The boy tried to hide the look, but Heero called him on it. "Shingam, do you like the pizza?"  
  
The boy said nothing, only turned slightly panicked eyes to Quatre.  
  
Heero caught Shingam's chin, and turned the boy to look back at him. "It's alright if you don't like it. We'll just get you something else to eat." Heero must have seen something in Shingam's eyes then; "You and Killashandra will not be punished. If you don't like the pizza, tell me and we'll get you something else, but you and Killashandra, will not be punished."  
  
They watched Shingam hesitate, saw him turn to glance quickly at Duo, before turning to look at Killashandra. The girl sat in a booster chair watching Shingam intently. Finally after a quick nod to Killa, Shingam turned with fear back to Heero. "I don't-don't like it." Again, Quatre watched, as both Shingam and Killa seemed to tense, waiting for a blow they thought would be delivered. He shared a quick look with Heero before he leaned over and gave Killa a quick kiss. Heero stunned them all by ruffling Shingam's hair and tickling him under the chin.  
  
"Then we'll get you something else. Duo isn't mad, are you?" Duo shook his head before placing a loud kiss in Shingam's hair.  
  
"Naw, it's cool, more pizza for me. Heero, why don't you take him to that place you like so much. What's it called again? The one on the vid, with the obnoxious clown from every kid's nightmares?"  
  
"McDonald's. I like their fries." He smiled to Shingam, before lifting the boy out of his seat and reaching down to take his hand. "There are a lot of people here, so it would be best for you to hold my hand, that way we won't be separated." For a spit second, Shingam hesitated before he grasped three of Heero's fingers and turned back to look worriedly at Killashandra.  
  
"Killa you stay here and don't move! I'll be right back! You do what Quatre and Trowa tell you, understand?" A moment later he looked up at Heero. "She understands, we can go now."  
  
Heero nodded and smiled down at the boy before the two of them walked hand in hand across the way.  
  
Smiling himself, Quatre watched them until a soft sigh escaped his best friend and he turned to look at Duo. The American's voice was soft, an airy quality to it. "He's going to make such a good father someday. Kids bring the best out of him."  
  
Quatre smiled and nodded. "Did you talk to him yet about your feelings on children?"  
  
Startled, Duo turned to him. "Oh, yeah, we talked about it. But we basically decided that we're still a little young; I mean I just turned twenty-one a few months ago. Besides, we've got plenty of time, and," he paused, "Maybe it's selfish, but I kinda just want Heero to myself for a while. Neither one of us really had much of a childhood, and to be honest, I think Heero's a little worried about how raising children is going to be for the two of us." Quatre wasn't fooled for a minute; Duo was just as nervous and scared as Heero, and they both had every right to be. Even he was scared, scared he'd somehow turn into his father when he least expected it, and he knew Trowa felt the same way; that blinding fear that abused children often grew up to be abusive parents. He shuddered at the thought.  
  
"Open, Killa." Turning, he watched Trowa lift a cut up piece of Shingam's left over pizza to Killa's open mouth. He watched with amazement as the little girl worked at the bite, chewing over and over. Trowa turned to him and smiled when Killa finally opened her mouth for more. "I think she likes it."  
  
"Oh no, just like Duo. These kids will never eat healthy!"  
  
They laughed, and even Duo grinned as he reached for another slice of pizza and began to devour it. And then, it got bad.  
  
"TIMMY!!!!" The shout rang across the food court. Quatre looked around for a moment, but turned back to Killa, ignoring the shout for mall noise. Quatre no baka!  
  
Suddenly Heero appeared, Shingam in his arms. Silently, Heero walked over to the seat and dropped Shingam into it before squatting down to look the boy straight in the eye. They all watched stunned as Heero spoke to him.  
  
"What you did was inappropriate and unnecessary. That is unacceptable behavior and you will not do it again, do you understand?" Heero's voice held a note of anger and Shingam readily nodded his head. Quatre turned, just in time to see Killashandra flinch.  
  
"But Heero, that boy said mean things about Killa, and she's my responsibility! I won't let him say bad stuff about her!"  
  
Adamantly, Heero shook his head. "That is not an excuse. You're a very smart boy, you don't need to push people to make them stop. If you don't like something someone says, then tell them not to say it again, or you come tell me, Duo, Quatre or Trowa; do you understand?"  
  
A mad look rested on Shingam's face, before he tried staring down Heero. But the stoic pilot only stared right back, and eventually, Shingam admitted defeat and nodded his head. The irony of an ex-Gundam pilot, and perhaps the weapon created to kill him, agreeing on pacifist ideals went unnoticed.  
  
Heero nodded. "Now what are you going to do if someone says something you don't like from now on?"  
  
Shingam took a deep breath. "I'm gonna tell them to stop or tell you."  
  
"And you're not going to, what?"  
  
Shingam sighed again. "Push them."  
  
"Good." And then Heero embraced the boy, hugging him close and offering him a kiss to the forehead. When he pulled away, Shingam didn't look so terribly mad or frightened. When Quatre looked, Killashandra was again opening her mouth for another bite of pizza.  
  
"What happened?" Duo asked.  
  
They didn't have to wait long to find out.  
  
"What's the matter with you?! Didn't you see what your son did to my Timmy?!"  
  
Quatre turned in time to see a very skinny, high maintenance woman standing across the table from him. She had one hand full of packages and one sniveling fat boy in the other.  
  
Heero stood and regarded the woman. "I saw. I've taken care of it."  
  
"Taken care of it! Your boy pushed my son into a wall! I'll have you arrested-"  
  
"Whoa, whoa, let's calm down for a minute people!" Duo stood, his arm stretched out in both Heero and the woman's direction. "I'm sure there's no need to do anything drastic like that. Heero told the kid he'd been wrong, and I'm sure it was just a little shove. You know, boys will be boys."  
  
"I can't believe that's how you discipline your son!"  
  
Suddenly, Shingam couldn't take anymore. Standing on his chair he glared deathly at the woman and her crying son. "He said mean things about Killa! Then he said I was stupid and so was Killa. No one says bad stuff about Killa!"  
  
Worried, Quatre left his seat to kneel before Shingam, pulling the boy to sit back down in his chair. "Shingam, it's alright. But you can't do things like that, you need to do what Heero told you." Then to show Shingam he wasn't mad, he hugged the boy before dropping a kiss into his hair.  
  
He should have just told the whole place he had a bomb hidden somewhere in the building.  
  
Scoffing, the woman threw her hands up. "Of course! No wonder he's such a bad child. It just goes to show you that fagots should never raise children."  
  
Cringing under her brutal words, he missed the flash of rage in Duo's eyes before it was too late.  
  
"YOU FUCKING BITCH!" In the blink of an eye, Duo launched himself at the woman, and only Heero's quick reflexes managed to stop his fist from making contact with her overly painted face. "Let me go Heero! This bitch and her whiney brat are going down!" Duo struggled in Heero's grasp and Quatre could see that it was all he could do to keep his partner from killing the stupid woman.  
  
For her part, the woman took a step back and landed her butt right in someone's lunch. Yelping she spun around before thinking better of turning her back on Duo and turned back again. This time, she came face to face with Trowa.  
  
"Heero won't be able to hold him long. I suggest you and your son leave. Now." Cold like ice, Trowa's voice drove the point home and the woman quickly gathered her packages and walked away; before remembering her son, coming back for him, and dragging the child at break neck speed.  
  
Quatre dropped his head and sighed deeply.  
  
"She's getting away, Heero! Let me go! The brat badmouths the kid, and then the bitch has the gaul to imply that you and Quatre are together! I'm killing that woman on principal!" Still struggling, Heero rolled his eyes before yanking hard and slamming Duo into his seat. Stunned, Duo only said, "Ouch."  
  
Next to him, Trowa returned to his seat and once again began to feed Killashandra, unfazed as usual. Quatre watched his partner with stunned appall before rising and taking his own seat, shaking his head and mumbling under his breath. Shingam sat in silence, staring at the empty plate in front of him, while Heero did his best to calm Duo down.  
  
Quatre was just waiting for what happened next.  
  
A security guard walked up to their table and addressed the only person that looked half way reasonable, Trowa.  
  
"Sir, I'm going to have to ask you and your party to leave the premises. The Sky Mall has strict rules about disturbances of the peace."  
  
Looking up from Killa's chewing form, Trowa regarded the security officer blankly. Quatre stepped in.  
  
"Sir, as you could undoubtedly see, that horrendous woman and her child were the cause of this. We're simply here to eat lunch and then buy some clothes."  
  
The security guard was unaffected. "I'm going to have to ask you to leave. Don't make me escort you out."  
  
Frustrated and angry, Quatre turned accusing eyes on Duo who had the decency to look sheepish before he turned to Heero. "Fine! Let's go! I absolutely hate this place!" Standing he grabbed his jacket before gripping Trowa's elbow and guiding him up.  
  
His lover glared at the security officer before finally saying, "Are you sure you want to go, Quatre?" He paused for a moment, analyzing what Trowa was up to; and then it dawned on him. Trowa was saying that if he didn't want to go, Trowa would make sure they didn't. Trowa was doing the same thing he'd done the day before with both Sally and her security team.  
  
More than anything, Quatre wanted to watch Trowa beat the shit out of this horrible man but he took one look at Shingam and sighed. It wouldn't do to have Trowa beat this poor man up, when they'd just told Shingam to use words rather than fists to solve problems. But still, he was tempted.  
  
"No, it's alright. Let's just go. I want out of this place!"  
  
Nodding, Trowa lifted Killa from her seat and into his arms. Before anything more could be said, Quatre wrapped a protective arm around his family, and walked them toward the exit. Behind him, Heero lifted Shingam into his arms and grabbed for Duo's hand.  
  
But, Death wasn't finished yet. "That bitch and her brat had better be thrown out as well, or I'll sue for discrimination and don't think I won't do it!" Spinning around, Duo moved to Heero's side, and allowed his taller partner to wrap an arm about his shoulders and steer him to the exit.  
  
Outside, Quatre fumed. It never ceased to amaze him the bigotry of the world.  
  
"Are you alright?" Trowa's voice was soft, and the gently touch of the link helped calm his rage.  
  
Sighing he nodded once, curtly. "I'll be fine. But now I don't know what to do. Shingam and Killashandra need clothes, today, and that store in the mall is the only one that sells children's clothing ready-made. It'll be at least a day until we can get them something decent to wear and I promised." He knew he was whining, but damn it, he hated this!  
  
Next to him, Duo cleared his throat. "I'm sorry about that, Quatre. But that bitch was talking bad about Heero's parenting skills, not to mention that last remark. As if Heero was with you!" He scoffed and then quirked a smile at his own joke.  
  
Still angry, Quatre rose to the challenge. "Duo, if I wanted too, I'm sure I could seduce Heero away from you. And besides, Heero and I would have beautiful children. His eyes, my hair!" He tried not to laugh at Duo's open mouth expression, but he failed when Heero nodded his head. Duo smacked his partner, and Trowa pulled Quatre tightly to him and said possessively, "Mine."  
  
Shaking his head, he offered an apology. "I'm sorry, Duo. I'm just upset. Just ignore me."  
  
Pretending to sniffle, Duo clung to Heero's shirtsleeve. "It's ok Quatre, I understand. Heero really is worth fighting over." Then Duo stood up tall. "But you can't have him, so give it up!"  
  
Together they laughed, until Quatre remembered they still needed clothes. "What are we going to do?"  
  
"I'm sure Killa and Shingam will understand. We'll go back and order their clothes over the vid."  
  
"No Trowa, I can't. I promised them we'd get them clothes today. Damn it, I hate stupid people."  
  
"Quatre what else can we do?"  
  
And then suddenly it hit him.  
  
He groaned.  
  
He threw his hands into his hair.  
  
He turned around in a circle, and groaned again.  
  
He closed his eyes, prayed for strength, and then looked to his worried friends.  
  
"Alright, everyone in the car! I hate this! I really, really hate this! Why does all the bad stuff in the universe happen to me? Why? Well come on, let's go, we haven't got all day!" Walking right past Trowa he walked up to the limo and held the door open for his lover and Killashandra.  
  
"Quatre, are you alright?"  
  
Growling Quatre answered. "When this day is over with, I'll be a much happier person." And with that, he pushed Trowa's beautiful butt into the car and then, climbed in. 


	13. Chapter 13

That was over a half an hour ago, and the occupants were stone quiet as Quatre continued to mumble under his breath. This was terrible, horrible, and just plain bad. He'd purposely avoided bringing Trowa here because it wasn't exactly a place you went if you didn't have enough credits to buy your own colony. He knew Trowa would be uncomfortable, and while he'd bought his lover many suits here, Trowa had never once accompanied him. He nearly shuddered at what Trowa and his friends were about to witness.  
  
Finally the car pulled up to a skyscraper and stopped. When the door opened, he took a deep breath and nodded to himself once, before stepping out. He really, really hated this.  
  
Together the six of them walked to the door before Quatre pulled out his wallet, extracted his credit card, and swiped it, punching in five hundred and fifty-five credits, and waiting.  
  
Duo's voice was hesitant. "Um, Quatre? Why did you just pay the door five hundred credits?"  
  
He answered without turning around. "Because that's how much it costs for it to open."  
  
He knew they wouldn't understand. Quatre was about to bring them into a world none of them had ever been in, and when Trowa had come close at the winter gala, the society papers hadn't stopped talking for months. No, this was wrong and evil of him; but he'd made a promise and he intended to keep it. Killashandra and Shingam would have new clothes by the end of the day, even if he had to sell his soul for them!  
  
"Um, Quatre?"  
  
Quatre spun on Duo a hard expression on his face. "Duo, do me one favor. I think I've been pretty laid back and relaxed about our friendship for the most part, wouldn't you say?" At Duo's cautious nod he continued. "I need a favor today. I need you not to say a word-at all-until I tell you too, ok? This isn't a small man's game right now, and the things you usually say and do could get us all in a lot of trouble in here, got it?" A little hurt, Duo nodded. "I'm sorry to be so harsh, but really, this isn't like the art gallery, the things you could say or do until I tell you otherwise could literally destroy my career."  
  
"I thought we were buying clothes?"  
  
"We are."  
  
And then, as if on cue, the door opened to reveal a huge man in a business suit.  
  
"Mr. Winner."  
  
"Simus, the thirty-eighty floor please."  
  
The burly man nodded, and with thankfully minimal effort, Quatre maneuvered them all into the elevator that had opened to the outside of the building.  
  
The walls were made of bullet proof, tinted glass; and Quatre felt some measure of happiness watching Shingam and Killashandra fascinated as the elevator moved to the upper floors. Somehow the children knew to be quiet, he thanked Allah for at least that.  
  
The ride was quick, and before he knew it, Simus was announcing their floor. Suddenly, he remembered something he had to do.  
  
"Hold the door." Turning to Trowa, he gripped his partner's chin tightly in his hand and forced his lover to look him in the eye. "You walk proud and stand tall in there. Dirty looks mean nothing, money means everything, and I have more then they'll ever see in their entire lives. You remember that, and you remember I'll take care of you-remember I take care of what's mine."  
  
Quatre nearly cursed himself at the last part. Ever since he and Trowa had been together, he'd never made any mention of Trowa being his; at least not like that, like Trowa was a piece of property. Lately however, it was all he wanted to do, like this morning, he wanted to claim his partner, to show Trowa not dominance, but possession. But he had to be careful. Trowa had felt owned by the mercenaries that had raised him and Quatre was always fearful he'd cross the invisible line Trowa had drawn in the sand. He was always worried he'd say or do something to scare his partner, his most precious lover, always scared...  
  
But now wasn't the time. He needed Trowa to listen to him, to do as he'd just instructed. He needed Trowa to look down his nose at everyone they were about to come in contact with; he just hoped Trowa would understand.  
  
Leaning up on his toes, he delivered a hard and impassioned kiss to Trowa's stunned lips before nodding once to Duo and then stepped from the elevator.  
  
The entranceway screamed money. Green marble decorated every surface, while expensive oriental rungs ran the ten feet to a receptionist desk that would normally have been the CEO's style. Live flowers sat everywhere. The air was clean, not filtered; this air was purchased, bought by the cubic foot and shipped. It was the epitome of a last man's walk through glory before facing the lions.  
  
"Mr. Winner, we weren't expecting you." A tall, gorgeous man in a tailored brown business suit stepped forward. His hair was dark and slicked back, making him all the more beautiful to look at; Quatre reasoned it was so more people didn't hate his guts. The look didn't work for Quatre one bit.  
  
"I'm not in the business of making appointments, Gaury. Unless it's become a new requirement, of course."  
  
Smiling in a look that read purely, "I'm catering to the rich" Gaury offered his apology. "No sir. You never need an appointment-"  
  
"Good." Turning he looked to Shingam and Killashandra, both in Heero and Trowa's arms. "I require clothing for my children."  
  
"Of course, Sir. We weren't aware that you-"  
  
Quatre knew what he was going to say, and he didn't like it. He really hated this guy! "Mr. Gaury, I don't tell my tailor of my stock plans, why would I tell him of my newest acquisitions?" He hated himself for doing it, but he briefly touched Killa's cheek, indication what his "acquisitions" were. He was being a businessman, entering into a hostel situation. He was being a bastard. Frighteningly, he was playing the role of his father.  
  
"No, why would you, Sir. Well then, we'll seat you with Meesa-"  
  
"I'll see Jeovony. She knows what I like. Send for her."  
  
"Mr. Winner, Madam Jeovony is currently working on her newest spring line and has strictly forbidden any--"  
  
"Tell her it's Quatre Winner, she'll see me. If she's insistent, tell her I'll triple her fee." He turned to regard Killa again, hating himself all the while. "My children will only have the best."  
  
"Of course. If you'll follow Cory, she'll take you to the East room."  
  
And now, Quatre was pissed!  
  
"Gaury, how much would you say I spend here when I come? Or more to the point, how much do my sisters spend to have you outfit them in the latest Earth styles? I'm not looking for hard numbers of course, just a rough guess." He sensed Trowa tensing beside him and prayed to Allah that his lover could stand his uncharacteristic behavior for just a little while longer.  
  
Gaury looked trapped-which he was-before answering in a diplomatic way. "Quite a lot, Sir."  
  
"That's an understatement, but I did ask for an estimate. So tell me, why do you insist on sending me to the East room every single time I come here? It wouldn't have anything to do with you not liking me, now would it?" Scare tactics. He'd watched his father use them more than once, watched grown men nearly weep in fear of what his father could do to them. Once he'd wanted to be just like him, now all he wanted to do was forget he'd ever lived. Betrayal could do that to a person.  
  
"No. Sir. This establishment values your business always. Please, which room would you like?"  
  
Standing proud, Quatre gestured to the right. "We'll take the North room, tell Jeovony we'll meet her there." He used his eyes to tell Trowa to move in that direction, while he threw over his shoulder, "Don't concern yourself, I know exactly where it is. Send for a vid and fax, and bring up a menu, I think my guests may be hungry."  
  
He knew Trowa was unsettled, he needed to get his lover away from curious eyes immediately; not to mention his children.  
  
They walked down a long corridor before Quatre turned to the right and presented his hand for inspection, he spoke into the voice print. "Quatre Raberba Winner, Owner of Winner Enterprises Incorporated." The door opened without hesitation.  
  
Stepping aside, he ushered his family and friends into the room before stepping in himself and stating clearly. "Secure room."  
  
There was a bleep and then a mechanical voice. "Room is secure. Thank you, Mr. Winner."  
  
Taking in a deep breath, he gave a huge sigh before turning to Duo and offering a smile. "Ok, you can talk now."  
  
Duo hesitated, Trowa didn't. "Quatre, what's going on?"  
  
Sighing again, Quatre pointed to the couch and gestured towards it. "Let's sit down first. That always takes a lot out of me."  
  
"I can tell." Trowa wrapped an arm about his shoulders, and Quatre leaned in for a measure of strength before pulling back and moving to the couch.  
  
The room was huge, vaulted ceilings covered in reams of fabric stretched to and foe. Beautiful and expressive works of art hung on the mirrors, while white cashmere carpet lined the floor. At the end of the room stood a pedestal, with three marble steps required to reach it. On three sides of the pedestal, were couches, chairs, coffee tables, and lamps, all of the most exquisite taste and privilege. Behind the pedestal, and where four walls should have been were mirrors, they wrapped about the room in one continuous piece that was unbroken and obviously made to fit this exact room. A small console rested to the right of the pedestal, and occasionally it flashed but did not beep.  
  
To the couches directly in front of the pedestal, he led them. Once there, he literally fell into the exquisite piece of comfortable decorum and closed his eyes. Thankfully, the worst was over, for the most part. He'd have to act again when Gaury came in but he was safe for the most part. Now all he had to do was reassure Trowa, the children, and his friends.  
  
Sitting up, he smiled warmly at Trowa, and pushed back the curls that escaped Killashandra's satin ribbon. "I know that was ugly, and you're confused, and nervous, not to mention upset with me; so just let me explain." To his credit, Trowa nodded. "As you could tell, this isn't the first time I've been here. Actually I came here for the very first suit I was ever given. I was five, and it was for my sister Orla's wedding. Back then this shop was on L-1. Anyway, I've known Gaury since I was about eight. To say he never thought I'd rise to be the head of the Winner Corporation would be an understatement. He was my father's favorite, and Gaury did most of his tailoring. The man purposely use to stick me with pins." He grimaced, remembering how much that had hurt.  
  
Duo interrupted. "You were that mean to the guy because he stuck you with a few pins?"  
  
They didn't understand, he'd just have to explain. "I hate the man because he knew from dealing with my father that I was gay; the man then proceeded to make that tidbit public knowledge. His ability to circle information through this shop is legendary. When I bought a suit here for Trowa, back when we'd first gotten together, Gaury was responsible for the entire planet knowing my boyfriend's measurements. The man is a bigot from the word, and I can't stand him. I suppose it's cruel, but I get a great deal of satisfaction by making his life miserable." He smiled to himself, and was pleased when both Heero and Duo nodded in understanding.  
  
But when he looked to Trowa, there was a concerned expression on his lover's face. He hated seeing it there; hated knowing that his actions had put it there. He never wanted to upset Trowa, never.  
  
"What is it, Beloved?"  
  
"You.told him the children were yours. If you were concerned about this ability to spread gossip, why tell him at all?"  
  
"Gaury will undoubtedly have the information across the globe in about a month, the colonies should have it in one and a half. I want the papers to cover it! I want society a buzz with it, and mostly I want my sisters to squirm wondering if the rumors are true or not. People will speculate, they'll say that I went to have my children clothed, and brought you and some friends instead of a wife or girlfriend. No one will understand, and it'll throw them all into chaos. They'll be so busy chasing rumors, they'll leave us alone. No one in high society would ever think to ask the members of the scandal if it's true or not; we'll be fine for months. By the time it all settles down, my twenty-first birthday will have come, and then I'll really have some important news." He smiled against the sudden pain he felt. It was still hard for him to remember that his sisters had chosen to stand against him; still hard to remember that all the family he needed was right here in this room with him.  
  
He felt Trowa take his hand, and he gently squeezed to let him know he was ok. Trowa wasn't buying it. A strong arm came about his shoulders and drew him into an even stronger chest. He wanted to apologize for earlier, but couldn't quiet seem to find the strength, he'd apologize later, tonight, with Trowa tucked safely into him; away from things and people that could hurt him.  
  
Duo whistled. "Man Quatre, remind me never to get on your bad side. You play this game really, really well. It's actually kind of scary."  
  
He nodded. "Yes it is. But I learned from the best, and I guess I have to be thankful to him, at least for that." Trowa's grip tightened about him and Quatre nuzzled into him, thankful for the comfort.  
  
The chimes rang, and Quatre reluctantly sat up. Standing, he turned once more to look at Duo. "If it's who I think it is, it'll be fine, but just in case, don't say anything."  
  
Duo nodded. "Sure, I'm starting to understand how my big mouth could get you into some serious trouble."  
  
"You have no idea." He smiled and then moved to the door and released the security.  
  
The door opened, to reveal, a woman in her mid-forties. Her hair was stylishly pulled up, and her clothing was the cutting edge of fashion. She carried herself with poise and power, and Quatre was immediately happy to see her.  
  
"You demanded to see me, Mr. Winner?"  
  
Quatre understood the game, the door was still wide open, their security compromised. Curtly he nodded. "Yes. Thank you for taking the time, I know you're very busy."  
  
"Actually you have no idea. My spring line is due out in only a matter of days, and I'm busily working on it."  
  
"I'm sure I can compensate you for any lost time." He nearly laughed when she winked at him.  
  
"I'm sure you can.Quatre. Perhaps, something a little less-shall we say- monetary?"  
  
HA! She wasn't stupid, Madam Jeovony had been up and down the social latter herself enough times to know what he was playing at.  
  
Smiling wickedly, he answered. "I'm sure we can come to some-mutually beneficial-arrangement."  
  
"Wonderful." And with that, she walked into the room.  
  
Quatre closed the door, but not the security pass, before turning and being completely and utter kissed by a woman old enough to be his mother. And it wasn't just a motherly kiss either, it was a full out, tongue and all kiss. Laughing mentally, he wrapped his hands up into her hair, crushed her to him, and returned the impassioned kiss in kind. He loved his woman!  
  
* * *  
  
Trowa didn't understand it, and he wasn't going to stand for it either! In an act he thought he'd never commit, he raged across the room and literally pulled Quatre from the groping hag of a woman. But he'd really yanked, and Quatre lost his balance, crashing into him. Trowa was sure his rage was the only thing keeping him from tumbling over. He wanted answers and he wanted them now!  
  
"Quatre." His voice was calm and appropriately labeled deadly.  
  
Suddenly, the link rushed with love and affections; with promises of forever and feelings of trust. Then that one emotion, the one he associated with Quatre and himself now a family, passed across, and he loosened his grip on his lover's arm.  
  
"Secure room." He heard Quatre say before the computer beeped and answered back.  
  
Head ducked, blonde bangs falling in his face, Quatre giggled; and so did the woman.  
  
"Quatre, Luv, you didn't tell me he was so possessive." Her voice was nice, like the sound good crystal makes, pure and true, nothing like he'd heard it while she'd been standing in the doorway; and certainly not how he'd heard it as she'd propositioned his lover-HIS Quatre.  
  
Still giggling, Quatre looked up at him before winking and turning to the woman. "Actually I didn't know myself. Now that I do, I may have to make him jealous more often." Quatre smiled up at him then, showing through the link that he was only kidding. In response, Trowa presented his confusion.  
  
A frown crossed Quatre's face before he brought his hand to Trowa's cheek. "Sorry Trowa, Madam Jeovony and I have been.conducting, a show for this establishment since not long after the suit incident we were talking about. Damage control." He smiled, turning to gift Duo and Heero with the same look. He saw Shingam relax back into Heero. "It's nothing."  
  
"Speak for yourself." The woman-who didn't look quiet so ugly anymore- said. "Every time you come I get the best kisses of my life." She winked to Trowa. "I guess I know why you keep him around."  
  
Quatre laughed and then introduced them. "Trowa Barton, this is Madam Jeovony; Madam, my partner, Trowa."  
  
The woman extended a hand in a position that required something other than a handshake. "Mr. Barton, I'm charmed." Leaning at the waist, Trowa lifted her hand to place a light kiss before standing and nodding once.  
  
"He's quiet, but charming; and by the gods, would you look at those legs, he's positively the exact person I was looking for! Oh Quatre you must let me borrow him! I've been desperately searching for a model for my spring line, and I haven't been able to find anyone! It's impossible! You must let me test a few things out on him, oh you must!" The woman was immediately eccentric, yet did it with the air that it was her normal everyday attitude towards everything. Not sure what was really going on, he looked down at Quatre in question.  
  
But Quatre was looking up at him with a look that spoke entirely of pride and possessiveness. His voice ran clear with the same. "He is beautiful isn't he?"  
  
"Of course he his darling, but I wouldn't expect anything less." Madam Jeovony smiled at him, and suddenly Trowa didn't know if he should be excited that Quatre found him beautiful or nervous. He opted for nervous.  
  
"Of course not. I only pick the best." Quatre winked at him again. "But today Trowa isn't the reason I'm here-"  
  
"Oh no you don't! I absolutely refuse to hear another word until you let him model for me! I'm so dreadfully desperate, Darling. Please, please, please!" Trowa couldn't help but feel a little sorry for the woman; she really did sound like she was desperate. Quatre just smiled wickedly.  
  
"Well, perhaps we can come to some arrangement."  
  
Madam Jeovony's eyes became huge, and even Trowa was stunned that Quatre now seemed willing to wheel and deal, with himself as the object. Then it was like watching a door close over her face, she was suddenly very aloof, yet still seemed in a good mood. "What type of arrangement are you looking for?"  
  
Quatre smiled up at him. "Two conditions, one, the sitting fee is eliminated; and two, Trowa can take home the outfit he likes best. I believe that sounds fair."  
  
The woman brightened instantly. "Wonderful, I was going to offer an outfit anyway, and honestly, Darling, when was the last time you ever paid a single credit to come and see me anyway? I love it when you visit; society talks about my little shop for months after you come." The two of them laughed, and Trowa couldn't help but feel like he'd just been traded for a new suit, literally.  
  
Quatre must have felt his thoughts, because he turned then and took his hand, leading him back to the couch. His voice was soft and tender when he spoke. "Madam Jeovony usually charges her clients to have them sit with her; by that I mean just to have her in the same room as they are when they're trying on clothing. She usually makes suggestions and such, but it's quite a handsome fee. You posing for her will literally be about as much as fifty thousand credits." Trowa stopped dead in his tracks half way back to the couch and just stared at his lover.  
  
Madam Jeovony interrupted. "Quatre! You make it sound like all I do is stand there! And besides, those credits are hardly anything to my clientele, not to mention pocket change for you, so stop grumbling. Besides, I do run that blasted machine, don't I?" She gestured towards the console that stood flashing next to the platform.  
  
Quatre laughed, and then tugged to get him to continue towards the couch. "Actually, the best part will be the outfit you'll get to take home. Having one of Madam Jeovony's sets is a very big deal. She has impeccable taste, and her designs are wonderful. Having one before it hits the spring market-well, let's just say I'll have to show you off in it." They reached the couch and Trowa sat, reeling from what he'd just heard, and feeling once again, that warm glow at the thought that Quatre wanted to show him off. Turning to his lover, he nodded his consent.  
  
"Great!" Quatre kissed him quickly before turning back to address Jeovony. "Then we're agreed. However, first thing's first. Madam Jeovony, I'd like to introduce you to my friends Duo and Heero." They both kissed her hand in greeting. "And finally, you're clients today, Shingam and Killashandra."  
  
Jeovony drew in a deep breath and brought her hand to her chest in surprise and wonder. "Quatre, they're simply beautiful! Look at his eyes-and her hair, she's like an angel! My gods, they could wear almost anything with their coloring!"  
  
Again Quatre laughed. "They are beautiful; and wonderful. However, they need clothing and after a terrible.incident at the mall today, we've come to beg your help."  
  
The woman looked appalled. "The mall! Oh my, I can't believe the richest man in the universe takes to the mall for his own children's clothes. It's horrible, you should be ashamed! But don't worry, you're here, and you've come to the right place. I dressed you when you were little more than Shingam's age, and I was dressing your sisters before they were Killashandra's. Although I must insist upon something first."  
  
"What would that be?"  
  
"You must let me burn these clothes when they're out of them! They hardly fit, and.I.can't believe you'd even take them into public looking like this!"  
  
Quatre shook his head. "They had nothing else to wear." Jeovony looked skeptical. "Shingam and Killashandra haven't exactly been staying with me very long, and when they arrived, they had little more than what they were wearing."  
  
A tragic look settled onto her face and suddenly Madam Jeovony was kneeling in front of where Quatre sat. "They're war orphans, aren't they? You've adopted war orphans."  
  
Quatre turned to look at the children, one in Duo's lap, the other in his. "I suppose you could say that. More to the point, they adopted me."  
  
There was a sad and yet respectful tone in Jeovony's voice then. "You have a heart of gold, Quatre. I'd expect nothing less from Quatrene and Raberba's child."  
  
Trowa noticed more than anyone the tensing of Quatre's shoulders at the mention of his mother and father. Quatre didn't know much about his mother, only that she was kind and wonderful, and that when she died, his father grieved for years. And his father, Trowa reached for his hand at the thought.  
  
Quatre smiled up at him before turning back to the woman. "Thank you. I'm honored to be compared, even if I do fall short when it comes to my mother. Perhaps we should." Quatre was getting uncomfortable, Trowa could feel it through the link.  
  
Jeovony noticed it too. "Well enough of that, who's first?"  
  
Smiling, Quatre turned to look at Shingam. "Would you like to go first so you know what Killa should expect?"  
  
The boy looked questioningly at Quatre before nodding and wriggling out of Duo's lap. Taking his hand, Quatre stood and walked him over to the pedestal. 


	14. Chapter 14

* * *  
  
Carefully he lifted the boy the three steps to the top and set him in the middle of the sensor. "Shingam, this is a special device that projects a hologram around your entire body. What'll happen is, Madam Jeovony will stand over there at that console and hit a few buttons to take your measurements, that way you're clothes will fit just right. Then she'll give me a listing of all the different items she has in your size, and we'll pick out some things for you to try on. When we're done, Jeovony will go back to the console and make the clothes appear on your body as if you were really wearing them. That's what the hologram's for. It won't hurt you, and when you step off the platform, you'll still be wearing the clothes you've got on right now. Jeovony will select all the clothes you like and she'll have them all ready for us when we leave. Killa will do the same thing, and even Trowa's going to try it. It'll be fun. Are you ready?"  
  
Hesitantly, Shingam looked past him to Killashandra, before looking back at him and offering a weak nod.  
  
"Everything's going to be ok. Now just stand right there." Brushing Shingam's hair back from his face, he stepped off the platform and moved back to sit next to Trowa. "He'll be ok, he's just a little nervous." Trowa nodded.  
  
"Alright, Shingam, stand very still." Madam Jeovony was at the console now. A moment later a bright ring of light, fell from the top of the ceiling, to the ground at Shingam's feet. The boy looked startled and a little frightened, before he reassured him.  
  
"It's ok Shingam, the machine's only taking your measurements, to see how tall you are and things like that. It doesn't hurt does it?" The boy shook his head. "See, now just stand really still, that same ring is going to pass over you a few more times and then we'll get to see all kinds of things for you to try on."  
  
True to his word, the ring passed three more times before Jeovony sat next to him on the couch and presented the pictorial listing of her available items.  
  
"How old is he?" Her voice was soft.  
  
"Five."  
  
She smiled sadly, "He's the size of a big three year old. I didn't think he was more than that until he spoke to you while I was measuring him. He's very, very tiny." It was the way she said it, the pain she felt for what she thought was nothing more than a war orphan, torn from his family and barely surviving.  
  
Quatre nodded. "Right now he is, but not for long. He's going to grow up to be a great big boy, aren't you Shingam?" The boy stood by his feet and nodded before Quatre picked him up and put him on his lap.  
  
Nodding, Jeovony moved to sit in a chair, while Duo came to look at the selection with him. Even Killa seemed to lean over to take a look. A little while later, they decided on ten outfits, most of which Shingam had little to nothing to say about, and Quatre gently set him back on the pedestal.  
  
"Just like before, you can't move until Madam Jeovony tells you too. Once she does, you can move around, and the hologram will stick with you, it'll be like you're really wearing the clothes." Shingam nodded and stood completely still as the first program loaded, and the first outfit was displayed.  
  
Trowa had insisted that Shingam own a pair of jeans, saying the boy would need something comfortable to play in. So Shingam stood in a tailored pair of jeans that had "Jeovony" across the back waist band, they cost five hundred times more because of it, but it was worth it to have them today. Quatre had insisted that Shingam also stay warm while outside, and so the boy wore a dark blue turtleneck sweater. The likeness to Trowa was immediate. It was like being shown what Trowa must have looked like at Shingam's age.  
  
Quatre turned in time to see a fairly stunned expression also on Trowa's and even Duo and Heero's faces. They all thought the same thing.  
  
Turning back, Quatre walked up to Shingam. "What do you think? Do you like it; is it comfortable?" The holograms the store used were of a sophisticated design that allowed the wearer to literally feel what the clothes felt like against the skin. Quatre had always thought it a little eerie.  
  
Shingam turned to look in the mirror behind him, but when Quatre looked too, he saw that Shingam looked again scared, frightened by what he saw, or didn't see.  
  
Crossing the invisible barrier and completely destroying the projection, Shingam's clothes returned to normal and he embraced the boy and held him close to his chest.  
  
"What is it, Shingam? What's wrong?"  
  
Tucked under his chin, the boy shook his head before pulling away and looking everywhere except at Quatre. Worried, he pulled the boy's chin around and looked him in the eye. "Shingam, whatever it is, you don't have to be afraid. I'm here, and I'm not going to let anything happen to you. Look, Heero and Duo are here, and so is Trowa, and Killa's right there. Everything's ok, you don't have to be scared."  
  
Shingam looked to Killashandra, nodding his head now and then, while Killa simply stared at him with no express on her face. Finally Shingam looked to Quatre and nodded.  
  
"I didn't know how to answer your question. I forgot Killa and I won't get punished if I didn't answer with the right answer. I didn't want Killa to be punished."  
  
Quatre closed his eyes against the unexpected wave of emotional pain Shingam suddenly expressed. Usually he couldn't feel a thing from either child; and he wasn't prepared for the fear Shingam suddenly felt, or the shame.  
  
Holding him tighter and tucking his small frame once again into him, Quatre spoke softly. "It's alright Shingam. I know it's hard for you to remember sometimes. But you're right, you and Killa won't be punished if you give me the wrong answer. As long as you tell the truth, you'll never be punished." He pulled away and was happy to see Shingam nod in understanding. "Now, what question didn't you know how to answer?"  
  
"The one about if I liked the clothes."  
  
"Why couldn't you answer that one?"  
  
"Don't have anything to compare it with."  
  
And it was true. Shingam and Killa had been dressed in little more than rags when he'd found them, and had since been dressed in a tee-shirt, or the clothes they now wore thanks to Wufei. How were they expected to know if they liked something or not? How would they know one way or another?  
  
Then he had an idea.  
  
"Shingam, why don't you ask Killa if she thinks you looked nice in the outfit? I bet Killa could tell you if she liked it. Then once you know if she does or not, you'll have something to compare the next outfit too. Does that sound alright?"  
  
Thinking for a moment, Shingam finally nodded, and turned to address Killa in another round of silent communication. He had time to throw a half smile Trowa's way before Shingam nodded to him.  
  
"Killa likes it. She says I look like Trowa."  
  
Quatre smiled. "You know what? Trowa and I were thinking the same thing. You look very handsome, Shingam. Why don't we get this so you can take it home? Does that sound ok?"  
  
Nodding his head, Shingam allowed him to lay a kiss in his hair, before setting him back on the platform. Standing, Quatre turned to meet Jeovony's watery smile. "Madam, we'll take it. Wrap it up!"  
  
Jeovony laughed, and so did the others.  
  
He'd just returned to his seat and given Trowa's hand a squeeze, when the door opened, and Gaury entered. Immediately, Quatre wrapped his arm around Trowa's shoulders and issued a smart squeeze that he hoped Trowa understood meant, "play along."  
  
Pushing a hover loaded with a vid-com, a fax, and a menu, Gaury maneuvered it to rest directly in front of him. The man smiled cordially. "Sir, the items you requested."  
  
Immediately, he grabbed for the menu without saying another word and passed it to Duo. "Have a look." He turned to Gaury then. "The security program was in place Gaury, how did you manage to get in?" His voice was stern, laced with contempt.  
  
Before him, Gaury began to sweat, as he should. "Sir, you requested these items, I assumed-"  
  
"I am an extremely private man, Mr. Gaury. Your assumptions have no place here. I-assumed-you'd have the common curtsey to request admittance; but if I was wrong."  
  
Visibly, Gaury paled. Trapped with no way out the man took a step back; and Quatre felt powerful. "My apologies, Mr. Winner. It won't happen again."  
  
"See that it doesn't. Now be a good boy and stand over there, you're blocking my view." Quatre indicated one of the mirrored walls and waited as Gaury stiffly moved to stand beside it.  
  
Turning back to look at Shingam, who stood staring at Quatre's uncharacteristic display, he indicated that Jeovony should continue. With timed and deliberate care-which he schooled into almost absence-Quatre ran his fingers lightly up and down Trowa's neck, urging his lover to shift into his body.  
  
With Gaury in the room he hoped to solidify his earlier claims to being here with his lover. It wasn't enough to simply say it, he needed Gaury to believe completely that this was the man Quatre spent his midnight hours with. There was no going back; this decision had been made in the split second, and it was to be executed in a manner not unlike those his father had used. Gaury would see, children, lover, and friends, but no woman to speak of. Society would scream at the outrage of his audacity; the society journals would preach about the little lost golden Winner. He was making a very, very dangerous, and calculated move; he hope it paid off more than it destroyed.  
  
Jeovony gave him a look, before loading up the next program. Beside him, he saw Killashandra watching him, her eyes focused, and searching. He couldn't allow Gaury to see that he cared for these children; better to make it seem they were nothing more than objects to retain his fortune. Gaury and society in general had no idea about the stipulation in his fathers will, his sisters were too embarrassed to speak of it; and he saw no reason to make it public. But Gaury would eventually get the word to his sisters of what he'd seen, and they would buzz at the idea. Perhaps it would forestall any attempts to rise up against him, if his sisters believed he'd already caved in. His forced and heartless attention towards the children, while still openly presenting his lover would undoubtedly make his disgust in his own children seem more real, and hopefully cause his sisters to believe that he'd gone against his principles to keep the Corporation. For the first time in his life, he felt good lying.  
  
It must have been his thoughts, or the combination of emotions, because suddenly, Trowa understood what he was trying to do. It was like nothing Quatre had ever seen Trowa do before. His lover pouted. Full lip and all, Trowa turned to him, and in a voice filled with as much snobbery as the most seasoned veteran of wealth, he spoke. "Quatre, I'm so bored."  
  
He could have kissed Trowa then. Gaury stared wide eyed, and Quatre pulled Trowa firmly against him, nearly laying Trowa's head in his lap. What he did next, he hoped the children would understand, hoped that Killashandra- with her unknown telepathic or empathic abilities-would understand, he didn't mean.  
  
"Oh Trowa, don't fuss. The brats need clothing; it's not as if we can let them run around in nothing. I may be forced to show them off one day. You know how clientele love to pretend to love one's children. It won't be that much longer, then we'll go back to bed."  
  
Trowa gave a huge sigh, before lifting his head and making a grand show of hating every moment they spent in the place. "If you insist." And then Trowa turned his body, so his back was pressed into Quatre's chest, resting, without a care in the world. Trowa made the most beautiful member of the elite.  
  
But then suddenly, Quatre felt the uneasiness coming from Shingam. It started out small, like a tickle behind his right ear, but soon-in only a matter of seconds-it blossomed into a full out panic. Shingam didn't understand what was happening, and either Killa didn't either, or she wasn't telling him. Knowing he had to act quickly, he turned to regard Duo. His manner was careless, but his eyes belayed an urgency he knew Duo immediately understood.  
  
"Have you decided what you'd like?"  
  
Duo made a quick show of contemplating the menu again, before handing it to him and nodding. "Actually, I think lobster sounds good; with a baked potato-of course, with everything-and a glass of wine, you're choice." Quatre nodded, before turning to look at Heero, praying that he stated his order quickly, as he could see Shingam breathing hard ten feet away.  
  
Heero, had to be different, or more precisely, remember his earlier promise to Shingam. "I'll have McDonald's fries, a Big Mac, and two medium cokes. I want universe fries, not a regular order, and make sure you bring a vanilla milkshake." Quatre would have rolled his eyes if his heart didn't hurt so badly from Shingam's panic.  
  
Not wanting Trowa to react to Shingam, Quatre had closed the link down when he'd felt Shingam's emotions to begin with. Now as he looked at Trowa, he prayed he had the strength to keep his indifferent mask on and not rush to the small boy's side.  
  
Trowa just shrugged. "I'll have what Yuy's having-actually, make it two cheese burgers instead, with no pickles; I hate those things. Oh and Gaury, I'll take a chocolate shake; got all that?" Obediently, Gaury nodded.  
  
"Wonderful, I'll take the same as Duo." Making a show of effort, he regarded Killashandra, knowing if he looked at Shingam, he'd fall apart. "I suppose they need to eat as well." He laughed. "It's not as if they understand the meaning of fine dinning. Gaury, just bring them some soup, a variety, I have no idea what they like; and then some pudding, I don't think they can make too big a mess with that." He knew exactly what Gaury was thinking, "yes they could" but he didn't say anything, now wasn't the time.  
  
Suddenly, he glared at the man that stood not twenty feet from him, "Well?"  
  
Nodding once, Gaury moved to exit the room. Just as he reached the door, Quatre called over the couch, "And Gaury, do remember to ask for permission before entering, I do so hate to have to repeat myself."  
  
At the sound of the door swooshing close, he barked the security command and almost roughly pushed Trowa aside. In a matter of seconds he had Shingam again wrapped in his arms, the boy a shaking, angry mess. Behind him, he felt Trowa's worried and confused gaze, but chose to ignore it for the time being; right now he needed to calm his children.  
  
"Shhh, Shingam, I was only acting. It was only an act, because that man can't know how much you and Killa mean to me. I know you can't understand it all right now, but I promise you, I swear it by everything I hold dear, that myself and Trowa, Duo and Heero, we all care about you and Killa very, very much. I know I'm asking a lot from you, but if you ask Killa-ask her if she understands, if she can feel that what I'm saying is the truth, I know you'll understand. Please Shingam, trust me just enough to ask Killa."  
  
In his arms, Shingam shook his head, struggling to tear away from his embrace. "You lied, Quatre! You lied!"  
  
And in that moment, he felt his heart shatter into a thousand pieces. Like everything he'd tried to do, he'd attempted something too soon, he didn't give enough time for trust to grow. Shingam didn't trust him, and Quatre felt it like a physical blow. Shaking his head, and praying to Allah for strength, Quatre turned pleading eyes to Killashandra-who stared blankly at him.  
  
"Killa, I know you're just as scared as Shingam is. I know I made a mistake, that I didn't give you enough time, but this is to protect you, to give us enough time so that you and Shingam can learn to trust Trowa and myself; trust us before the world comes crashing at our feet. I would never intentionally hurt you, never. Please, Killa, I know you can make Shingam and yourself understand if you try."  
  
His body hurt and his head pounded with the emotions of a boy too scared to even struggle. He felt the hope the boy had flee from his body. Quatre had done that, had taken the hope from this small boy, and thrown him back into the fear he'd been surrounded by since the beginning of his life. Tears sprang to his eyes and he pulled Shingam closer still, holding him tightly; some part of him needing to hold this boy's hope in if only by physical restraint.  
  
And then, suddenly, he felt it. A forceful brush of something cold, unyielding, and raw all at the same time. It pushed through his defenses without care; pulled and pushed one thought into the next, shoving and sifting for the answers. It was like someone reaching into his open chest and pulling his organs out one by one to examine and then toss back in. He wanted to scream, the pain so overpowering it crashed into his senses and gripped around his throat, preventing even his pain from being voiced. In his head, he heard a song, one he'd heard before, one that he now understood was Killashandra.  
  
"A,B,C,D,E,F,G,H,I,J,K,L,M,N,O,P,Q,R,S,T,U,V,W,X,Y,Z. NOW I KNOW MY A,B,C'S, NEXT TIME WON'T YOU SING WITH ME.A,B,C,D,E,F,G."  
  
It continued, racking through his brain faster and faster, while his thoughts and feelings shifted and crashed into one another, sending a pain like none he'd ever known through him. Absently, he noted that Trowa was in front of him, that he was trying with all of his limited strength to manipulate the link open. But with a driving need to protect his lover from the backlash, Quatre used all of his remaining strength to keep the link as tightly sealed as possible.  
  
The song played again and again, countless times until he was sure hours must have passed, days even, his world swam with pain and something so much realer, even more frightening, agony.  
  
Then, as suddenly as it had come, it was gone. The pain simply stopped, replaced by the gentle caress of what felt like tiny fingers over his thoughts. He felt them then, all of his feelings for the two children had been collected, pushed into one part of his brain and thoroughly examined.  
  
In his mind's eye he saw Killashandra, her small hands resting on a glowing crystal ball that shifted in color between the bluest gray, and the clearest green. She seemed to be watching something in the ball of light and as Quatre approached, she looked up at him, her eyes glowing in ethereal beauty. She looked from him to the crystal, and then back again, before finally indicating he should touch the crystal as well. The moment his fingertips touched the light, he felt his own thoughts. For the first time, he saw and felt what his own mind was like, how it functioned, operated, and how it sorted logic. He was stunned for a moment, before turning to see both Killashandra and Shingam standing side by side, their hands tightly clasped. And then Shingam stepped towards him, his hand extended. "We understand, Quatre. We trust you now. I trust you now."  
  
He blinked, and when he did, it was to look into the face of his worried lover. Sitting straight up, Quatre looked around and realized he was lying on the couch. Turning to look at Trowa he asked, "How long?"  
  
He saw Trowa glance quickly at Duo and Heero, who each held one child in their arms, before turning back and answering. "It's been about thirty seconds since you cried out. Quatre-"  
  
"That can't be! Thirty seconds! Trowa, it felt like hours, maybe even days! God, it hurt so badly.and then-then with the children." Turning away from his partner, he looked at Shingam and Killashandra.  
  
Eyes and expression dead as always, Killa regarded him, but Shingam's face held the hint of a smile. "Killa's sorry it hurt, but she was hurt too. You scared her. But everything's better now. We understand. It'll be ok now, Quatre. We understand now; and we know what you're like on the inside. You're good, you'll keep your promises. We're sorry it hurt and frightened you, really we are."  
  
Shingam's eyes shifted into a look of almost pleading forgiveness, and Quatre stood on shaky legs-with much protest from Trowa-to embrace them.  
  
"It's ok, Shingam. I frightened you, and it's ok that you were scared. But you do understand now, don't you? That I'll never hurt you, that you and Killa are safe with me?"  
  
A concentrated look passed over Shingam's face, and he turned to look hard at Killashandra before answering. "Killa's my responsibility.but.we trust you.she-she's your responsibility too now." He felt clearly Shingams concerns about granting him that much, but it was tempered by a wave of trust that put his own trust in Trowa to shame. In what appeared to be less than thirty seconds, he'd been examined, and found worthy by two children who had never found someone that fit that description. In him-with him-they could be safe, and now they knew that, understood it; he hoped he could live up to their expectations.  
  
He should have been tired, exhausted by the physical and mental agony he'd just been through, but instead he felt rejuvenated, alive, maybe really alive for the first time. All of his senses seemed hyper aware, and surrounding him, encompassing his every thought and emotion, he found Trowa.  
  
Turning, Quatre was struck by Trowa's beauty; even in fear for him Trowa was like an angel, delicate and yet willing to fight for what he believed in. Suddenly the idea that Trowa would have to fight caused a panic of pure white to flash through him, race along his senses and nearly blind him. Trowa was his responsibility-HIS. Trowa would never fight again, it was his responsibility to protect Trowa.  
  
Like a veil being lifted, he saw Trowa completely. His lover, delicate, beautiful, strong, Trowa.Trowa belonged to him. The idea solidified almost instantly. Trowa belonged to him, he owned Trowa; mind, body, soul, everything! Trowa was free, was his own man, but Quatre owned him, possessed him, loved and cherished him. Trowa was his! He had to claim Trowa!  
  
His mind played image after image of Trowa submitting, of Trowa standing by his side not as an equal, but as his. Trowa nodding yes to everything he said; Trowa reared up beneath him as Quatre pounded into his body with abandon. The images were so clear, like watching a movie play through his head. Some small part of him knew this was wrong, that Trowa-with the past he'd led-could never submit to him this way, so completely; but the new part of him screamed a dare to Trowa, a dare that Trowa might like it.  
  
Shaking his head to clear the images and thoughts that seemed so foreign and yet right, Quatre moved to again stand beside his lover, allowing long arms to wrap about him. Inside him, that new voice cried out that it should be him comforting his lover, not the other way around; that Trowa belonged to him, and it was about time he made Trowa understand that.  
  
Turning into Trowa's shoulder, Quatre shuddered at the feelings that raced through him. His logical mind tried to reason with this new voice; pleaded over and over that it understand that Trowa could not do the things it wanted him to do. That Trowa had been too damaged, too hurt in his short life to allow such control, even if it was the only way to truly protect him from everything, the way it was meant to be-had to be!  
  
His thoughts swam, clashing into each other and made little to no sense. Like a newly opened puzzle, the pieces lay across the table, some flipped right side, others not, and no clear picture anywhere. He tried to grasp onto the thoughts that made sense, that he knew from his life now, but it seemed like the moment he touched one normal thought, three new and raw ones presented themselves. He shuddered again into Trowa's shoulder.  
  
Warm hands ran across the back of his neck, gentle and calming. They soothed his soul, and carefully he felt the gentle rocking as Trowa swayed them from side to side. Dimly at first, he became aware of Trowa's voice. "Come back to me, Luv. Come on, Quatre. Come back to me."  
  
There was no despair in Trowa's voice, and for the first time in a long time, Quatre did not sense that strange emotion he'd begun to associate with Trowa. His lover was calm, calling him back to the present, and dispelling the haunting demons that now were being ushered into their cages to issue only muffled cries of protest.  
  
He drew in a deep breath before pulling away. Gentle lips pressed against his own, and Quatre felt the rest of his mind ground itself at Trowa's insistent kiss. He latched onto his lover, deepening the kiss allowing it to clear the last of the fog and silence the remaining voices. He had no idea what was going on.  
  
"Trowa?"  
  
"Shhh Quatre. Shingam said it's only the backlash. He says you'll be fine in a moment. Stay calm Little One, I am here."  
  
Still not exhausted in the least, Quatre nodded and pulled away, but did not move from the embrace. "Trowa, it was so intense. I-I can't even really explain it. I know I should feel tired, but.I don't. I don't know what just happened, but I know it wasn't supposed to hurt me."  
  
Trowa nodded. "Shingam insisted you'd be fine in a moment, that Killa was trying to help you understand what you needed to know. Do you feel like you understand something better now?"  
  
Slowly, he shook his head. "Not understand, just realized that there's more to think about-not even that-I'm not really sure yet. I'm just not sure."  
  
Gentle arms tugged him to sit on the couch; before Trowa sat beside him. "You're safe, Quatre."  
  
Absently, he nodded, "I know. I know." But he closed his eyes against the uncertainty. 


	15. Chapter 15

* * *  
  
It had been nearly an hour and Quatre was getting really hungry and really annoyed. Killashandra stood on the pedestal, modeling the last of her twenty-two outfits; they'd selected eighteen. She'd been wonderful. Once Shingam had explained that she didn't need to be afraid, Killa had actually acted as if the processes was making an impact on her. She'd even twirled around and watched the skirts of a particularly flowy party dress move.  
  
After the incident, he'd felt a restlessness he couldn't explain. The voices he'd heard were silent, but in their wake was a sense of emptiness he couldn't explain. It was as if something they'd been trying to tell him made sense, if only he listened.  
  
Madam Jeovony had been in a slight panic, but he'd quickly assured her that he was fine. Thankfully she knew about his empathic abilities from his father and sisters, and at least let the topic lay. Duo and Heero continued to watch him quietly, while Trowa barely let him move from his circle of arms. Add onto all of that, the poor children were hungry.  
  
"Quatre, can we eat soon, Killa's tummy's hungry, and so's mine." Shingam sat on the floor by Quatre's feet, idly watching Killashandra model a pink jumper that was suitable for both play and casual dress.  
  
"I know Shingam, and I promise someone will pay for it."  
  
Warm callused hands caressed his face from behind, and Quatre instinctively snuggled into Trowa.  
  
"McDonalds and Lobster is a tall order, not to mention pudding. Gaury's probably running around insanely."  
  
Quatre couldn't help but smile wickedly, "Good."  
  
"Now Darling, be kind, you know how I feel about that."  
  
Like a reprimanded child, he winced before looking sheepishly at the older woman. "Forgive me Madam, I've forgotten myself."  
  
Jeovony laughed. "Oh Darling, it's nothing to look so depressed about. Gaury's the most annoying bigot I've ever met, but every man has his faults- even you-and if properly ignored, he's not entirely unpleasant to live with."  
  
Duo butted into the conversation. "Are you kidding? Any guy that isn't instantly awed by Quatre's radiant beauty should be thrown in a very dark hole somewhere and made only to sleep with pigs and whores."  
  
Coughing to try and desperately cover up Duo's words, Quatre pulled away from Trowa's warmth and stood immediately to address Jeovony. "Madam Jeovony, Duo meant no disrespect-"  
  
"Of course I did! That guy's an asshole!"  
  
"Duo!" Quatre's voice was despairingly stern. Turning back to the woman who stood with a wide-eyed expression, Quatre tried again to apologize. "Jeovony, please forgive him. Duo can be an insensitive idiot sometimes. Really, he doesn't even know he's doing it!"  
  
"Hey! What'd I do?"  
  
Turning back to Duo, Quatre hissed. "Gaury is Jeovony's lover! Now shut up so I can fix this!"  
  
He turned back in time to see Madam Jeovony erupt into a fit of pure delight. Joyous laughter filled the room as she nearly doubled over from gasping fits of laughter. Quatre simply ran his hands through his hair in frustration.  
  
Finally, with her laughter under near control, Jeovony addressed him. "Darling, you simply have to bring your friends with you next time; they are truly a delight. Have no fear, I take no offence. I know exactly who and what Gaury is, and I won't apologize for loving him regardless. I believe a very notable person once said, love is blind." She smiled to let him and the others know her words were true, and Quatre was about to agree when the chimes again sounded.  
  
Turning, he regarded the door for a moment, before lifting Shingam, to sit on one of the far chairs. "Now sit right here, and we'll eat in just a minute, ok?" Shingam nodded and he turned to smile lovingly at Killashandra who stopped her twirling as if understanding she was to remain sullen. He smiled once to Trowa, and then sat beside him, shift so that instead of taking comfort, he appeared to be the one giving it. Nodding to himself, he took a deep breath and called for their admittance.  
  
The doors opened to allow Gaury entrance and the lengthy man pushed in another hover cart, this time loaded with covered items. Too tired to put on much of a show, Quatre accepted the tray without word, and then dismissed Gaury with just as much. The man left in silence, and Quatre reactivated the security code.  
  
He felt Trowa unstiffen in his arms, and turned in time to see a happy buzz surround Shingam at the thought of food. He smiled to the boy. "Hungry Shingam?"  
  
He nodded his head, and Quatre moved to dish out the food stuffs. Ten minutes later two children sat on the couch, Quatre and Heero on either side of them. Food was laid out before them all, and neither Shingam or Duo hesitated in attacking it like their last meal.  
  
Smiling to himself, Quatre spooned one of the eight different kinds of soup into Killashandra's mouth before turning to accept a piece of lobster Trowa offered his waiting mouth. They were a sight. Duo wrenching the shell from a stubborn lobster; Heero taking a too big bite of some unknown hamburger substance and shoveling in about ten fries all at the same time; Shingam spooning in soup like he was still starving; Killa eating the spoonfuls he offered her; while he ate from an outstretched fork; and Trowa munched lazily on french-fries and a chocolate milkshake. What a sight indeed.  
  
From her perch in a chair across from them, Jeovony laughed and talked quietly with them, accepting one of Trowa's cheeseburgers to tide her over for the moment. Quatre joked and laughed with her while listening as Duo engaged Shingam and Heero into a debate about the merits of seafood. It was a happy and joyous experience, and Quatre felt at peace for nearly the first time that day. He was still disturbed by his earlier brush with Killashandra, but he willed the thought away, knowing they were going to see Corinne the next day.  
  
Half an hour later, Jeovony stood from her chair and looked pointedly at Trowa. "Well, Luv, I think it's time I work my magic. That outfit is quite becoming on you, but I'm sure I have something in my spring line you'll like just as much. Shall we?"  
  
Trowa gave him a completely comical look of utter hopelessness, before Quatre shoved at his lover to get up. "Don't worry Trowa, I've heard Jeovony doesn't use pins."  
  
They all laughed as Trowa made a show of gulping and holding out his hand to be taken away. It was completely uncharacteristic of Trowa, but when Shingam laughed childishly, Quatre understood why Trowa had done it.  
  
To say that the first outfit was the ugliest thing Quatre had ever seen on Trowa would have been an understatement. His lover looked ridiculous in a high neck, almost Victorian collar with ruffles. He tried to let both Trowa and Jeovony down lightly, but was outdone when Duo fell on the floor laughing.  
  
The second, third, and even forth weren't much better, decking Trowa out in such outrageous and "non-Trowa" colors as pink, orange, and some monstrous blue and white Pokka dots. Each time Trowa moved from the adjoining room where he was being dressed, he'd roll his eyes and make some strange new face, or just hang his head in shame.  
  
By the sixth disaster Jeovony spoke. "I promise you, these styles will be suitable attire in the spring, but while Trowa is built perfectly, he simply lacks the.thing-needed to wear my clothes. Don't be upset, I've a few more things for you to try, and then we'll be done. I sincerely hope you find something you'd like too keep, it wouldn't do to go back on my word with Quatre; he can be quite vindictive." She whispered the last part.  
  
"I heard that, Madam."  
  
Two items later, a handsome suit was placed on Trowa's body. It was set in deep browns, and accented Trowa's auburn highlights and green eyes. Quatre praised Jeovony's work as he scooped another spoonful of pudding into Killa's waiting mouth; he now knew she preferred chocolate pudding to vanilla and butterscotch, while hesitantly swallowing the tapioca. "Madam, that is an amazing piece."  
  
"I think so too. Trowa wears it well, I think. This will likely be the one you'll prefer, but I've one more piece to-"  
  
Again the chimes rang, requesting admittance, and Quatre briefly wondered at the multiple disruptions. Standing he took Trowa's hand and moved him to stand on the pedestal. He offered a wink, before releasing the security once again.  
  
Gaury and Cory walked in, the twenty something woman carrying a cellular phone. Gaury spoke with forced pleasantness. "Mr. Winner, your secretary is on line one."  
  
Quatre brightened, stepping off the marble steps, he moved to graciously accept the phone from Cory's hand. Absently, he heard Jeovony call for Cory's assistance with something, while he turned his back on the others and addressed his goddess of the office.  
  
"Clara."  
  
"Oh good, you're finally going to talk to me, I've been on hold for nearly fifteen minutes, what were you doing sewing the clothes yourself?!"  
  
Since adopting the corporation after his father's death, Quatre knew he needed to surround himself with people he could trust. Clara was the daughter of his mother's personal servant, a woman he'd lovingly called Nana for much of his young life. Clara had been educated in some of the best schools, and Quatre had sought her out after ascending to the top of Winner Enterprises Incorporated. She was one of his first and best decisions. Loyal to a fault, she told Quatre exactly what she thought when she thought it, and she held no fear, Quatre literally needed her to keep not only his sanity, but his trillion dollar corporation running.  
  
"I'm sorry to hear that, I was just informed of your call."  
  
"Is that horrible man there? Oh, he must be since your talking in code already. Look Mr. Winner, just do what I do when guys annoy me, kick him in the balls!" Quatre snorted, again thinking that if Duo had been straight he would have been under divine obligation to introduce him to Clara, they were perfect for one another.  
  
"I do wish I could. And Clara, remind me never to annoy you."  
  
"Mr. Winner, you never annoy me; after all, you do sign my pay check."  
  
He laughed, and proceeded to a door that was obscured behind a hanging ream of fabric. Stepping through, he allowed the door to close before addressing Clara about the matter at hand. "Tell me Clara, how difficult will it be?"  
  
"I wish I had better news. The lock on your executive rights until twenty- one states that no gift can be given in a denomination of over a billion credits. The Crystal Estate is nearly five billion credits worth of real- estate and development. Right now, I simply don't see a way for you to transfer the title to Mr. Barton at all, let alone without your sisters knowing about it."  
  
"Clara, this is extremely important. You know as well as I do that I don't have much time left for corporate decisions. The Crystal Estate was my mother's original home, and as far as I know, it's where my parents were married. I can't stand to think I'll lose it in the shuffle once Winner Inc. is liquidated. I need the title transferred immediately, before Christmas."  
  
"I'm sorry Mr. Winner, but you're asking for a miracle."  
  
"Clara, it's ten days before Christmas it's the perfect time for miracles."  
  
He heard her sigh deeply. "I had the lawyers working on it all night and they don't seem to know how it can be done. I just don't know how to help you this time."  
  
He closed his eyes. He wouldn't allow this to happen. He had so few memories of his mother, and the Crystal Estate had been the one thing his mother had insisted he be given. Throughout his time as a pilot, Quatre had often taken refuge there, soaking up the remaining emotional energy that felt so much like his own. Later, Quatre had brought Trowa, and it was at the estate that they'd made many of their life changing decisions together, the most apparent, that they would live together upon returning home.  
  
He needed to ensure that the estate would remain where it belonged, with his family. This thought had prompted him to investigate the idea of gifting it to Trowa. He'd give his lover his family home, the place that held some of their most treasured memories. He planned to have the deed in time to present it as Trowa's Christmas present. Trowa loved the estate as much as he did if not more; his lover had once said that the grand mansion felt like home to him. Quatre was determined to present his new family with a home, no matter what the cost.  
  
"What if I purchased it. Bought it from myself? Can you see any reason why that wouldn't work?"  
  
He could almost hear Clara's mind working. "I don't know, maybe.yes.yes I think it might. We could dip into your private fund, and make the purchase, then replenish the fund with the proceeds. Oh, Quatre I think that will work!"  
  
He smiled to himself, Clara tried to remain profession as much as she could around him, but not unlike Sekurra, they'd known each other forever. Clara had more than once sat in for her mother as his watcher while growing up. He'd tried more than once to get her to simply call him by his first name, but Clara insisted if she did, she'd be put straight back into the mentality of being his babysitter again, and she'd be more likely to punish him for his stupid mistakes. He'd laughed at that, knowing Clara probably respected his business tactics more than anyone else. One day he'd planned to elevate her to a much higher seat besides his secretary, but he'd missed his chance with the stipulation to the will. However, he planned to make sure she was well cared for, for the rest of her life.  
  
"Wonderful! Fax me the documents you need me to sign to foreclose on the sale. I want you to let the staff know of the change so it doesn't come as a dramatic shock this close to the Christmas season. Tell them that anyone that does not wish to renew their contract under the new ownership will be grated half a year's pay and released after the first of the year. Then inform the remaining staff to interview and restaff."  
  
"Mr. Winner, as if anyone would leave your employment on purpose, you're the most unassuming master and boss I've ever known. But don't worry, I'll let them know. Anything else?"  
  
Quatre smiled. "Yes, have all the faxes go to my desk at headquarters, not home, I don't want Trowa to accidentally see his present before the holiday."  
  
"No problem. Wow, I'd sure like to get an estate as large as the Crystal for Christmas. Last time I took Rin there he loved it."  
  
"Speaking of Rin, how is he doing?"  
  
"Oh, Quatre, he's so cute! His whole class made these adorable little snowmen from cotton-balls. Then Rin insisted that his father needed one as well, so he made it and took it over to Ian's. I swear, I couldn't live with the man again to save my life, but he's the best father a boy could ever have. Rin's actually going over to Ian's house after Christmas morning to have dinner with his dad. I'll miss him, but my mom's coming, and we'll bring Rin back for the night. It's going to be a lovely Christmas."  
  
He couldn't help it, his heart lurched at the joy and happiness that Clara always used when talking about her ten year old son. She loved him so much- as a mother should-and he felt such pain at knowing she had something he'd never have, something all the money in the world could never buy him. He smiled over the thought, and tried his best to cover his heartache.  
  
"That's wonderful to hear Clara. Please give my love to Rin, and extend a Merry Christmas to Ian."  
  
"I will. And don't worry about the Crystal, I'll take care of it."  
  
"I appreciate it. I know it's hard to come in on a Sunday so close to Christmas."  
  
"Oh don't worry about that, Mr. Winner. I scheduled a week off after Christmas in compensation for all the weekend work. Didn't think you'd mind."  
  
He smiled and gave a short laugh. "Clara, if all my employees worked as hard as you do I'd only have to employ them for half a year, there wouldn't be anything else to do."  
  
"Bite your tongue, Quatre. Now get back in there and take care of yourself. And you listen to me, give that tall, dark, handsome man of yours a huge kiss for me. I swear, you guys get all the cute ones." He couldn't help it, he laughed again; she sounded so much like Sakurra. "Thanks again, and I'll look for those faxes. Winner, out."  
  
Closing down the cell, he looked quietly down at it before placing it on the small desk. Turning back towards the door, he took a deep breath. Gaury and Cory were probably still in there, and Quatre knew this sharade was taking a lot out of him. He hated lying about who he was, but as a businessman, he knew sometimes it was inevitable to maintain control.  
  
Control.  
  
He shook his head, banishing the thoughts of Trowa once again submitting to him. He didn't know exactly what was going on, but he knew he needed to talk to Corinne soon. These thoughts and feelings were so foreign to him, and yet at the same time seemed like they'd been there all along. Like they were completely right and yet he'd pushed them from his mind and was only now recalling their importance.  
  
Squaring his shoulders, he stepped from the room and went back to face Trowa. He froze in place three steps outside the door.  
  
* * *  
  
"You know Darling, Quatre seems even more tense than usual. This wouldn't have anything to do with those heartless sisters of his now would it?" Jeovony smiled knowingly up at him as she adjusted the collar of his suit.  
  
Not knowing what else to say, or if he should say anything at all, he simply nodded.  
  
Jeovony's face hardened instantly. "Those ungrateful cows. They come in here screaming about the injustice of their horrible brother. They make me sick! I've known your lover since he was little more than five years old and he's the very first child to ever where one of my original pieces. He's a lovely child, and one of the greatest men I've ever had the pleasure of meeting. I swear to you, it takes all of my strength not to dress his sisters in the most horrendous outfits sometimes, and I'm sure that Liteea will never step foot in here again; I reamed her so well." She sighed, closing her eyes and trying to reign in her temper. "Quatre deserves better than all of this, and it's easy for me to see he's been through quite a lot." She smiled up at him. "You have to understand Luv, I've not seen Quatre both looking so tired, or so good. I think the situation is wearing on him, but you seem to be doing a good job of taking care of him. I think you may turn out to be very good for him, indeed."  
  
Softly he answered back. "Thank you."  
  
"Oh, now none of that! Gaury's going to be here for a few more minutes, which should be just enough time to show him what he's missing by sleeping with me." She winked at him conspiratorially. "What do you say I unveil my center piece on you? Gaury will probably drop the dishes, and when Quatre sees you.well, let's just say I'm sure he'll like it."  
  
Again struck by this strange woman that seemed to possess the qualities of both friend and enemy, Trowa simply nodded, and followed her back out of the room.  
  
* * *  
  
In some distant part of his brain, Quatre knew the room had grown completely silent at his command. He felt the confusion emanating from the people around him, and lightly he felt the same from his partner.  
  
But none of that mattered, it only strengthen his annoyance that they were still here. Standing tall, he commanded once again.  
  
"Get out!"  
  
Like a mad frenzy, Cory moved to the couch to nearly pull Duo and Heero to their feet. Duo must have looked at him again with some measure of confusion, but Quatre didn't see it. He couldn't see much of anything except the sight before him. His eyes never left Trowa's and as he opened the link just slightly, he felt the apprehension and lust leak through to fuel his objectives.  
  
Duo came up to him, Shingam locked firmly in his grasp. "Quatre?"  
  
"Get out."  
  
He assumed Heero came up then, probably dragging Duo away and out of the room. And then they were alone. Just himself and Trowa; and the voices demanding he claim his lover once and for all.  
  
* * *  
  
Trowa watched calmly and with a budding sense of anticipation for Quatre to reenter the room. He knew he looked good; and more importantly, he knew Quatre would think he looked good too. Jeovony had been right, this piece was perfect as her center. It spoke of authority, and lust, power, and secret desires. It fit to his body like it had been made for him, the black leather pulling his skin tightly beneath but not uncomfortably. Leather pants with no visible seams raced up his long legs, making him seem even more lithe and graceful. His natural way of moving-which Catherine always attributed to his time with the lions-was catlike and fluid; the clothing only accentuating it. His shirt was poet in nature, half opened, it was an off white that for some reason contrasted against the pants beautifully, but did not wash out his natural coloring. He wore a gold chain around his neck, the dangle being that of a cross he felt no connection to but kicked off the clothing well. His shoes were black leather boots; boots that broke at his ankles and left no marks up his legs to be visible under the pants. His wrists were covered in black leather slave bracelets, and while he'd been hesitant to try them on, some part of his brain leapt at the knowledge that he was going out there to show Quatre.to model for Quatre.for Quatre.  
  
Trowa wasn't stupid, he knew exactly what he looked like, and the feeling of power and danger appealed to him. It was like he'd walked right out of some ancient vampire novel from Before Colony. He almost laughed at the irony of it all, five years ago he'd felt little more than a dead man, walking from one place to another, feeling nothing and no one; and now, now when he felt more alive and loved than ever, he dressed like this, it was ironic.  
  
He reveled in the looks both his friends and the help gave him, as he put everything he had into the walk he made from the side room to the pedestal. Quatre would be pleased, Gaury looked ready to pass out. Playing the part he'd been written, Trowa made his pose seem carefree and seductive. His body shifted, muscle definition visible through the tight fabric, he moved slightly, knowing he entranced even his friends with his subtle movements. He watched as Heero leaned over to whisper into Duo's ear, and watched the wide violet eyes close slowly in response.  
  
Careful so as not to draw attention to it, he cast a look to Shingam and Killashandra. They sat together, doing their very best not to look too happy to see him. He guessed that without Quatre in the room, and with him gone for the ten minutes it took for him to dress, the children had been hard pressed to follow Quatre's instructions to be very quite and unassuming. He wanted to go to them, hug them, and hold them. It was a new feeling for him; he'd never been one of those people that went up to other's children and made a fuss, but these two seemed a part of him, as if they already belonged to his family and he hadn't quite realized it yet.  
  
He heard the back door open, and shifted his body again to appear as desirable as possible; he'd get Quatre back for the torturous limo ride earlier this morning.  
  
But as Quatre entered the room and stopped dead in his tracks, he couldn't help but feel a little concerned as his lover simply stood there, no expression on his face, and stared at him. It lasted for nearly five seconds, and vaguely he heard Jeovony ask if Quatre liked the outfit. His lover's next words confused the hell out of him.  
  
"Get out."  
  
No one moved, or maybe no one breathed. It was commanding, allowing no room for lack of compliance, but still no one moved, too stunned that such a voice could come from the face of an angel. And then Trowa didn't have time to process anything else. Quatre barked the command again, and suddenly Jeovony was stepping away from him and the young woman who'd given Quatre the cell phone earlier pulled Duo and Heero to their feet, while Gaury grabbed the food trashed hovercart and left the room.  
  
He watched his friends leave last, watched as Quatre again commanded Duo to leave without even looking at him. Quatre was staring straight at him, penetrating his eyes and staring at his soul. It was a blank look, but as the door closed behind Heero's retreating form, the look changed completely.  
  
Lust.  
  
There was not better way to define the look. Quatre's whole face shifted darkly, his body shifted; coiling in on itself, ready to strike, and yet waiting for the perfect opportunity. His heart raced, he'd never seen this look on Quatre before; it was predatory, completely and without shame. His lover stared at him, watching him with the hungry eyes of an animal that would not be denied his prize.  
  
He couldn't look away, couldn't move a muscle as slowly, very slowly, Quatre moved towards him. His peripherals noted that Quatre continued to flex his hands, fists and then release, fists and then release. Trowa swallowed as a cold sweat broke over his body, he wasn't afraid, was he? How could he be afraid of Quatre? But there was something familiar in his lover's walk, something that he knew should frighten him, but instead seemed to do both that and increase his anticipation.  
  
He followed Quatre with his eyes as the blonde moved around the pedestal, circling him, his eyes dancing across the cool definition of his body. Trowa followed him with his eyes, watching as gentle Quatre suddenly became something else, something infinitely more exciting.  
  
Some part of him knew what this was, could sense where it was heading. He'd watched the lions do this, watched them circle the females before beginning the rite of creation. This was a dance, a musical movement, set to prepare the audience for the inevitable climax. Quatre didn't have to tell him what was going to happen, his body spoke for him, his movements, stalking and graceful, told his own body all he needed to know.  
  
And then, some part of him, a part he hadn't felt in a long time, told him to lower his eyes, told him that the waiting would all be over the moment he gave in, the moment he gave into his lover. Slowly, hesitantly, knowing Quatre was watching everything he did, he followed the rules of the jungle, and admitted with is body, Quatre's rights.  
  
From his left side, he felt Quatre slide against him, slim fingers moving to run into the downy hair at the nape of his neck. He leaned into the caress, tilting his head back and begging for more, more touch, more Quatre. Beside him, Quatre lifted his other hand to trace the outline in his chest of the open shirt, his one finger, idly moving over the "V".  
  
Then, a husky voice spoke into his ear, teasing his senses, making his knees weak. "You're beautiful my lover, simply beautiful. Did you get all dressed up for me?"  
  
He couldn't help it, the whimper escaped his throat before he had time to know it was even coming. This wasn't like Quatre. Quatre was gentle, always questioning his comfort, always making sure to set his mind at ease, promises of love filled touches and safety were almost always first on Quatre's mind. But this was different; untempered passion and powerful lust. Trowa listened carefully, examining word and body language, and found little mention of love; this wasn't about Quatre letting him know he loved him, this was about sex, nothing more and nothing less. He shivered violently at the thought.  
  
"Shhhh, my Trowa. Shhhh." Soft hands caressed his face, washing down his elegant nose to brush against his lips. "Don't be frightened. You know I love you. That my love for you is stronger than death and life. Shhhh."  
  
Carefully, Trowa nodded, opening his eyes to watch Quatre's face, needing to remember this was Quatre before him, and not someone else.  
  
The emotions must have been strong because suddenly Quatre's face took on a kinder more gentle expression. Tempered with the lust were the features of his angel. "Be calm, my Trowa. You know who I am. But you've forgotten who, exactly, I am. Shhhh, don't be afraid. You look beautiful, my Trowa. I can hardly be expected to resist you. My Trowa..."  
  
He knew immediately that he'd started to shake. Quatre's words were so much like one's he'd heard before, so much like ones he'd learned to fear and hide from. But Quatre's warm hands guided his face to once again look into his own, eyes meeting eyes, and Trowa locked onto them, holding onto the aquamarine to keep from drowning in old memories he'd rather die than remember.  
  
"Hush my Trowa. I've frightened you more than I wanted too. It isn't right to hurt you in such a way. Be calm, my lover. My words are spoken in the wrong place, this is better left for home, where you are more comfortable. Shhhhh, my Trowa. You know you are safe with me, I'm not them, my Trowa, I'm not them."  
  
Quatre shifted, now standing directly in front of him, his small yet sure hands running through his hair and over his face, calming him in ways that only Quatre knew how too. His heart slowed, this was right, this was the way it should be. At first he'd been afraid, remembered some other time best left forgotten, but Quatre was gentle, calming, loving. Quatre was in front of him, whispering softly to him, easing his fears. After so long old wounds still re-opened to this type of stimulation, but Quatre had created his own place, being gentle instead of commanding, loving instead of rough. But he could feel Quatre asking for more, not now, but later. Tonight. Tonight, Quatre would ask him for something he never had before, and Trowa would give it too him, would hand it to his lover with both hands.  
  
He couldn't explain it. Quatre's commanding shift frightened him, yet also soothed the growing ache he'd felt in his soul since his lover had fallen ill and their roles had be reversed. He feared Quatre's strength, yet craved it like nothing he'd ever wanted more in his entire life. And on some level, he realized that this was truly Quatre's strength, that his lover was hiding nothing, nor wearing the mask of a strong man for him. This was Quatre, maybe even the real Quatre; and Trowa shuddered again in both anticipation and fear.  
  
He felt one hand travel from his face to work it's way into his fisted hand. "That's right, my Trowa, calm down. That's right. Don't worry, you're safe with me. I didn't mean to frighten you so much. Come with me, come sit with me for a moment, my Trowa, my love." Gently, Quatre tugged, and Trowa opened his eyes to follow behind Quatre as the Arabian prince let him over to the couch.  
  
Quatre sat, his back against one of the arms, before pulling him to rest neatly between his open knees, his back pressed against Quatre's chest. Absent hands roamed over his chest, tracing light patterns of nothing across his skin. In his back he could feel Quatre's arousal pressed into him and he felt his own body stir even more than it had before.  
  
There was another tremble of fear that worked is way through his muscles as hands he knew belonged to Quatre but could not see the owner of, moved lower to caress his growing erection. He shifted uncomfortably.  
  
"Trowa." The use of his name without the possessive caused him to turn and look once again into the depthless eyes of his most beloved. "As always, tell me to stop and I will, tell me I make you uncomfortable, and I'll make it better for you. Today and tonight could be hard on you lovely, and you must trust me as never before. But now, I won't hurt you; now, I want you to close your eyes and feel, just feel that it is me touching you, me loving you. And I do love you, Trowa. Tell me you understand that much."  
  
He nodded, feeling the press of Quatre's fingers increase along with the speed of their caress.  
  
"Good, my Trowa. Very good. Now be silent. I'll talk to you so you remember who I am."  
  
He realized then that Quatre must have sensed his fears earlier; that Quatre knew he'd become uncomfortable not being able to see his beloved as they did this. The night on the tower had been the first time they had not been looking directly at each other while engaging in some form of sexual pleasure. He knew he insisted on it, that he couldn't stand not to see the face of the man he was with. It was a concession he knew sometimes frustrated his lover, but Quatre never complained, never even suggested they attempt something again if he knew it upset him. Quatre had once told him that sex and lovemaking was a partnership, and they had to be willing to allow for the needs of each other to be met. He often wondered if Quatre's needs were fully met.  
  
"Quatre!" Warm hands released the silver buttons on his pants, immediately freeing his erection.  
  
Behind him Quatre chuckled, a sweet sound that had just the hint of coiled aggression. "Why my Trowa, did you have some idea of what we were going to do?"  
  
Maddeningly, Trowa shook his head in denial. He hadn't known, hadn't even suspected it would go this far.  
  
Quatre laughed, wrapping his hand possessively around Trowa's length. "Every part of you is beautiful, my Trowa. It's like you were built for me, for my eyes only. I know I don't deserve you lover, but I refuse to let you go." Quatre's hand made sure and languid movements around him. His body jerked at the exquisite pleasure Quatre was selflessly giving to him. A part of him wanted to give as well, and he tried to shift his position only to have Quatre place his unoccupied hand firmly against his hips and stomach. "Don't fidget, my love."  
  
"Quatre, what about you?"  
  
A soft caress of laughter floated by his ear. "Don't you know yet, my Trowa. Your pleasure is my own. I live to love you, to make you mine. I can feel you through the link, beloved. Have no fear, I'm enjoying this as much as you are. Now hush, I like listening to you moan."  
  
And then there was nothing more to say. Quietly, Trowa abandoned himself to Quatre's command. His body shook and responded in kind to his lover's quiet breathy words of encouragement and possession, and Trowa's body basked in it, required it. Quatre was powerful, in both word and deed, there was no denying that.  
  
His breath quickened as he felt his body come closer to release. Behind him, he heard the same sound from Quatre, the deep breathing and quiet moans that set both of them ablaze. Suddenly, he felt the link slam closed, cutting him off from Quatre, leaving Quatre stranded. He tried to ask if Quatre was alright, why he'd denied his own pleasure, but Quatre gave him no reprieve. Warm lips and tongue worked at his pulse point, and a warm hand shifted to allow the full length of his roughened palm to scrape along his shaft. He didn't last fifteen seconds more.  
  
* * *  
  
Quatre felt his lover shudder and spasm, his fluids warming his hand as he continued to stroke his faithful Trowa. Mind closed against Trowa's pleasure, Quatre was still nearly done-in by the sights and sounds before him. Trowa was beautiful, the most beautiful man he'd ever known, there was no question about that. He nuzzled Trowa's neck, kissing the sensitive flesh there as Trowa slowly came down from his high. He lifted his hand from around Trowa's stomach and reached behind him for a discarded napkin he'd seen left there in Gaury's hurry to leave.  
  
When he'd cleaned them both, he carefully redid Trowa's pants, before wrapping both arms securely around his lover's chest. The softness of Trowa's mind as he reopened the link let him know of his partner's satisfaction. Trowa was well taken care of, that he had been the one to provide it brought him a quiet satisfaction that settled the voices in the back of his mind to silence. Whatever part controlled the voices recognized that this act had accomplished part of their objectives, they retreated until later.  
  
He felt the concern before Trowa shifted to look at him.  
  
"Why did you break the link?" Trowa's eyes looked pleadingly at him.  
  
He chuckled in response. "Unlike some people with two sets of clothes, I only came with one, and while I'm not opposed to dressing casually, I will not wear clothing with stains on them." He quirked a smile and Trowa blushed accordingly.  
  
Quatre laughed heartily and nuzzled Trowa's check before lightly kissing it. "Lay back love, we've no where to be right now."  
  
"I don't think Heero or Duo will think that."  
  
He grimaced in remembrance. "Well, we've waited for them to.finish.more than once, I think they'll be fine for a little while. But there is the matter of the children, so perhaps we won't take as much time as I'd like too." He brushed Trowa's bangs from his face and kissed as much of him as he could.  
  
Slowly his body calmed itself down, until he was fairly certain he could walk without discomfort.  
  
"Well, this was certainly an interesting day." Trowa's voice held a hint of humor.  
  
He nodded. "And it's not finished yet."  
  
He felt the shudder of anticipation course through Trowa, and smiled wickedly at it.  
  
Shifting, he nudged Trowa to sit up. "Well, I suppose we should collect our purchases and head out. If I recall, we still have a toy store to go too, and that wonderful woman's store is on the other side of town."  
  
Trowa groaned, and fell back against his chest. "Ugh, that's forever!" Shyly Trowa looked up at him. "I'm exhausted."  
  
Quatre laughed. "Did I take that much out of you?" Trowa nodded. "I'm sorry, Trowa. I'll make it up to you. Come on, I'm sure you'll be fine for a few more hours. Then we'll tuck the kids in bed and finish this morning and this afternoon properly." His eyes held the promise of even more pleasure, and Trowa groaned again for an entirely different reason.  
  
Standing, Quatre helped Trowa readjust the rest of his clothing, and together they moved to the other room to gather Trowa's other clothes before casting one look back at the room and exiting.  
  
Trowa walked next to him, while Quatre kept a firm lock around his waist. Trowa smiled down at him before ducking his head, only to return to gaze at him. Quatre smiled warmly in response.  
  
The entranceway opened before them, and Quatre sighed at seeing Duo and Heero sitting on the couch, the children resting quietly between them. Quatre watched Shingam's face brighten for a tenth of a second before he remembered his instructions and looked away. Quatre smiled and nodded once to his friends before addressing Gaury and Jeovony who waited behind the marble desk.  
  
"Thank you once again for the excellent service and accommodations, Madam Jeovony. I assume you've have the packages moved to my limo down stairs." The woman nodded, a faint and half concealed smile on her lips. "Wonderful. Let's settle the bill then, shall we?"  
  
Deliberately, he swung Trowa into his body and kissed him roughly before releasing him and moving to the desk. He watched with half amusement, half hatred at the look of disgust on Gaury's face.  
  
"I assume you'll be taking the outfit Mr. Barton is currently wearing."  
  
Quatre nodded and smiled knowingly at the older woman. "Yes, I find it quite.appealing on him."  
  
He saw Jeovony struggle not to laugh out loud, and waited while she ran the bill and presented it for him to sign.  
  
Signature in place, and credits already extracted, Quatre called Trowa back to his side. He motioned for his friends to rise, and together they moved to the waiting elevator. Before the door closed, he looked back to Gaury. "Forgive the mess in the North room, I didn't realize buying clothes for children could be so.messy." He smiled once to Jeovony, and then stepped back to allow the doors to close.  
  
The ride down was silent, as if they all knew not to say anything until in the safety of the car.  
  
Silently, Quatre flexed his fingers against Trowa's hip, and he felt the answering gesture against the small of his back.  
  
When the doors opened, he thanked Simus, and walked his family and friends back to the car. Once safely tucked inside, he breathed a sigh of relief; finally it was done.  
  
"Quatre! My fucking God, you had sex in that room didn't you?!" Duo's voice rang crystal clear, and he was sure people outside had heard every syllable. He turned to see Heero glaring at Duo, while his best friend waited impatiently for the answer.  
  
Trowa gave it too him.  
  
"Yes. And it was good."  
  
They laughed, a hearty laugh that shook the limo as it began its journey to the toy store across town. When finally they'd calmed down, Duo shook his head.  
  
"So exactly how much did you end up spending in there, Quatre? A couple thousand credits?"  
  
The car was silent as Quatre howled in laughter. He gripped his sides and shook with mirth at Duo's innocence. His friend really had no idea.  
  
Finally under control, Quatre looked to his friend, and smiled warmly, tear tracks across his face from laughing so hard. "Um, no. Actually, I dropped closer to a million credits in there. Not that much really if you think about all we got."  
  
But Duo's face blanched, and the braided pilot could do little more than work his mouth absently. The sight caused Quatre to laugh once again. Reaching across the seat, he took Killashandra and Shingam onto his lap and hugged them both tightly before leaning back against Trowa's warm body.  
  
"It was very worth it, indeed." 


	16. Chapter 16

* * *  
  
One unicorn trick kite down.  
  
Two hungry children fed.  
  
One hungry best friend fed.  
  
Two sleepy children tucked in.  
  
Two friends out the door.  
  
One very tall, thin, quiet, sexy, lover pressed against the wall of their bedroom.  
  
Oh yeah, and one bedroom door securely locked-passcode changed.  
  
Life was good.  
  
The voices had been silent since they'd left Jeovony's shop. The toy store had thankfully been uneventful, and both children, along with Duo, had gotten something they wanted.  
  
He closed his eyes, as Trowa nipped at the tender skin of his neck. He felt his mouth open in a gasp for breath, and Trowa's tongue seek entrance.  
  
Two and a half minutes, the time it took for Quatre to lead Trowa from the children's room, see their friends out, move past the living room, into the bedroom, change the pass code, and then claim his lover's mouth in a hungry and possessive kiss.  
  
Quatre ran his fingers up and into Trowa's hair, pulling his lover's mouth more firmly against his. Trowa responded in kind, deepening the kiss and igniting their desires.  
  
He'd made it through dinner just fine, ordering what he knew Trowa would like, and making the simple request of soup and bread for the children. He'd smiled warmly when the conversation had turned to the two children sitting beside himself and Trowa. They'd been so good, not assuming they'd get anything in the store while Duo had run around begging Heero to buy him everything.  
  
Trowa turned them, swung around and pushed Quatre's back into the wall, knocking the breath out of him. Quickly, Quatre recovered and went straight for the remaining buttons on the white gothic poet shirt.  
  
Dinner had been wonderful, but the best part had been the crowds of people that had stared at his Trowa as the tall man allowed Quatre to possessively move him across the dinning area to a back table, away from prying eyes. The whole while Quatre smiled knowingly at the other patrons, his look told them he knew Trowa was beautiful tonight and didn't they wish they were so lucky.  
  
Agile fingers worked at the buttons of his own shirt, as Quatre pushed the white gauzy fabric away from Trowa's shoulders. He leaned in with hungry lips to taste the flesh he'd uncovered. Tongue tasted salt, as he ran the warm, wet muscle across Trowa's collarbone, and smiled in triumph at the catch in his lover's breathing.  
  
Shingam and Killashandra had talked and eaten well. Actually, Shingam had talked for the both of them, but managed to hold a very in-depth conversation with Heero who later confided he was stunned by Shingam's vocabulary. Quatre had only smiled knowingly; his children were very smart.  
  
He felt his shirt yanked off his shoulders, the fabric tossed across the room to land somewhere other than around their feet. Quatre had the conscious thought that he hoped it didn't land in anything messy, he rather liked that shirt. Then Trowa's mouth silenced that thought as well.  
  
After explaining why Shingam and Killashandra could not fly their new kite at nine o'clock at night, the four of them had finally managed to put the two to bed. Their story had been read by Heero, with Duo making strange sound effects that didn't help the children to fall asleep at all.  
  
Forcefully, he scrapped his teeth along Trowa's collarbone. He knew the reaction he would get, knew it like he knew everything his lover liked, and didn't. Trowa tried to pull back, but Quatre's deceptively strong arms held him tightly. He soothed the angry wound with his tongue, and slowly, Trowa fell back under his spell.  
  
The voices had returned close to the end of the story Heero had been telling. He and Trowa had been against the wall, Trowa's arms wrapped tightly about his body, the two of them staying warm by touch alone.  
  
He swung them again, this time Trowa's naked back colliding with the wall with a resounding smack. While his lover was stunned, Quatre wasted no time working at the silver buttons he'd undone only hours before.  
  
They'd been quiet at first, softly whispering to him. Words like "possession" and "mine" floated through his brain, and he tightened his grip on the arms that surrounded him. He thought about telling Trowa, but the words the voices had thrown at him then had been too painful to even consider. Trowa wouldn't understand them anymore than he did; he wouldn't upset his lover like that.  
  
Button's released, Quatre sank once again to his knees. His hands hooked into the leather made clingy by Trowa's perspiring body. He pulled hard, without mercy.  
  
The voices had only gotten more insistent as they'd said goodbye to Heero and Duo. They called to him, mocking him for his lack of care towards his lover. Trowa belonged to him, they said, why was he making Trowa suffer by not claiming what was his? He didn't have an answer.  
  
He tripped Trowa, sending the taller man crashing to the floor, stunned. In seconds, Quatre was attacking the shoes that prevented the pants from being removed. He would see his entire lover, all of him, now!  
  
He hadn't known exactly what he was going to do. He knew the voices spoke some measure of truth, but also that they were all started by Killashandra's connection to him. Quatre had the foresight to remember that these children had been raised to watch the ZERO files, and that they could have been created to kill them all. But as Trowa had smiled down at him, a soft look of quiet revere, Quatre no longer cared.  
  
Shoes tossed over his shoulder, he ripped the pants the rest of the way off and caught Trowa's hand before yanking him into a sitting position on the floor. Quatre wound his hands into Trowa's hair and pulled him forward, crushing their bruised lips together, and catching the moan before it escaped Trowa's mouth.  
  
Some part of him had warned that this could be taken too far, that Trowa could be hurt if he did what the voices instructed. But as Quatre had changed the passcode on their door, he couldn't seem to remember why it would hurt Trowa. No, this was to help Trowa, so that he could protect him now that he wasn't pretending to be strong like he had before. Trowa would know he could trust him, Trowa would be made to understand that Quatre was as good as God to him.  
  
Trowa gasped, and Quatre nipped hard at Trowa's lip, just barely escaping the draw of blood. His right hand moved from behind Trowa's neck, and scrapped down the front of his chest, causing the man beneath him to pull back in pain. Quatre watched in sick fascination as welts appeared on Trowa's skin. Then just as before, he attacked the painful wounds with his mouth.  
  
This was about something basic, more basic than love or tenderness, this was about possession and desire, about control and hunger. He'd selfishly let Trowa believe that the taller boy was free and unprotected. He'd protected Trowa's delicate mentality by sacrificing those basic needs. Trowa needed something, Quatre was going to give it too him.  
  
The tables were turned suddenly, as Trowa used his strength to push Quatre to the ground, his body on hands and knees over Quatre's slighter frame. There was confusion in his eyes, and Quatre watched as Trowa looked down at his chest to examine the angry scratches there. He wasted no time using the distraction to his advantage.  
  
The voices called to him, and Quatre obliged. Trowa needed something he wasn't telling him, Trowa needed, and that was really all Quatre had to know. His mind screamed, lashed out at the voices, but they carried an air of such truth that Quatre couldn't deny them. Something was coming, and he intended to be there when it arrived.  
  
Again flipping Trowa over, Quatre allowed his jean clad groin to rub against Trowa's straining erection. He smiled brightly down at Trowa, who's eyes remained confused and questioning. His voice was commanding when he spoke; demanding all attention and immediate compliance.  
  
"Kiss me, my Trowa."  
  
His mind warned that the panicked expression on Trowa's face could not be good, but he fought it. There were times when someone was so close to the marker they could not see it. Trowa was like that, he was too far, and yet to close to see that Quatre stood right before him, the embodiment of his deepest desires, and his strongest fears. His rational mind screamed in protest.  
  
Under him, Trowa groaned, his erection jumping and tapping at Quatre's backside, begging for attention. Compliance, that was the number one requirement. Trowa must be made to understand, Trowa must do everything Quatre told him to do.  
  
"Trowa, what did I say?"  
  
This was killing Trowa, Quatre's weakness was killing him. He needed to be strong, he needed to be willing to give as much as Trowa had to keep them together. He had to be willing to lose everything to make his lover safe. How could he have been so selfish?  
  
Silently, Trowa sat up, his action pushing Quatre to sit in his lap and Trowa cried out at the added pressure. Then forcefully, Trowa sought him out. Lips once again met and clashed, and Trowa sought entrance with a probing tongue. After nearly a minute of mindless torture, Quatre relented; opening his mouth.  
  
Trowa might not understand right away, he might be frightened, and perhaps even terrified. But Quatre had to risk it, had to risk it all to drive the point home that Trowa lived and breathed because Quatre allowed it, because Quatre desired him, because Quatre loved him. Nothing else mattered. If all went well it would take only once; one time to solidify his claim, because Trowa already wanted-Trowa already desired to be owned.  
  
He caressed the roof of Trowa's mouth, knowing it was one of the small pleasures Trowa enjoyed in his company. His fingers played with Trowa's chest, kneading and touching in patterns designed to distract his lover from all other things but himself. He shifted, mocking with his hips the act they were about to partake in. Trowa's moans and soft whimpers fueled him on, called to him to continue. He ground against his lover faster.  
  
Quatre was no fool, he'd learned over the years the small things that made his lover tick. He knew how to touch Trowa in just the right way, how to kiss him in such a fashion, how to love him and make him feel special. He'd learned through trial and error, learned like all lovers must how best to please their partners. He knew the precise moment Trowa's body began to like the rough play; knew by the sound of Trowa's breathing, and the way his hips lifted off the floor to meet with his own.  
  
He pushed Trowa back to the floor, leaving his lovely mouth to move farther down his body. He paused at Trowa's neck, licking and suckling. Trowa's hands locked into his hair and pulled him closer. His mouth moved lower, again soothing the angry four lines that ran diagonally across Trowa's chest. Mentally, he reminded himself he'd have to ask for forgiveness later for those.  
  
He'd always been so gentle with Trowa, making sure to follow all the rules his taller lover barely knew existed. Quatre had spent countless hours mentally soothing the pain some of their couplings had brought to Trowa's weakened defenses. There had been times Trowa had fled from their bed, backed himself into a corner and looked at Quatre with such wide eyed fear as to make the blonde cry out in his own pain. So he'd erected blocks, found ways to be with Trowa that didn't cause his lover undo agony or fear. He'd learned all the rules and played by them, denying his own likes for slightly rougher play to appease Trowa's insecurities.  
  
Things change.  
  
"QUATRE!"  
  
It wasn't often he could make Trowa cry out, it took so very much some days to get a reaction out of his partner. Poor beautiful Trowa learned early on to remain silent no matter what the abuse. Quatre was going to have to break that nasty habit.  
  
"Did you need something, my Trowa?" He chuckled, fingernails now drawing welts along Trowa's sides.  
  
He hadn't thought of it as patience, only realizing his lover's limitations and accommodating them. Quatre had dedicated his life to giving Trowa what he needed. Trowa was everything, his life and love, his hope and promise. Trowa was the reason for his existence, the reason he woke up in the morning, and the reason he didn't slide that shinning metal across his wrists in one final act of release.  
  
"Quatre.why?"  
  
Trowa would be made to understand this. Quatre would teach him, show him that he'd been patient, waited quietly for years; and was not prepared to wait more.  
  
"My Trowa, did I hurt you? All you have to do is tell me I have, and I'll stop. Tell me to stop, my Trowa, that's all it will take. I'd never hurt you, never." He moved his mouth higher, tasting Trowa's lips once again. He watched Trowa's eyes drift shut in pleasure. "That's right my love, relax, you know I'd never really hurt you."  
  
Trowa was so delicate, like the fine china Quatre himself drank from. He knew he had to make a point, had to stop Trowa's suffering before it became too much and he'd have to sacrifice more than he could give away. He felt it in the back of his mind, the link singing with it. Trowa felt pleasure, such immense pleasure from this act. It was what he wanted, to be owned, taken care of, in the most basic of fashions known to man; and therefore it was what Quatre planned to give him.  
  
He stood suddenly, rising and leaning down to help Trowa to his feet. The naked man stood on shaky legs, his obvious need making it hard for him to do so. Quatre gazed at Trowa's arousal, watched it pulse ever so slightly in time with his lover's heartbeat. He looked up, knowingly. Trowa swallowed, his throat constricting, the apple of his throat alerting Quatre once again to Trowa's pleasure at being looked at.  
  
Quatre's mind called for something, his body craved something he'd never allowed it to desire. He'd wanted Trowa, so many, many times. His body, his mind, his spirit. Quatre had been attracted to the entire being that was Nanashi, and who he knew as Trowa Barton. And Quatre loved him, names be damned; nothing else mattered but loving Trowa, loving and claiming him as his own.  
  
With Trowa watching his every move, Quatre moved his hand between them, resting his fingers centimeters above the tip of Trowa's erection. He listened to Trowa breathe harder, watched as his lover unconsciously straightened his body to come in contact with Quatre's waiting fingers.  
  
Trowa would come to him, that was part of the dance. Trowa had to admit he needed Quatre to take care of him, in all senses of the word. Quatre was pleasure and pain, hope and rejection, love and abandonment; Trowa was simply everything.  
  
Just as his fingers touched blood engorged flesh, Quatre moved his hand, trailing his fingers up Trowa's stomach and chest. His touch was gentle, a touch Quatre knew Trowa now craved, desired, he felt Trowa's pleasure as his own; the link flashed in brilliant colors that surrounded them, wrapping them in love and passion.  
  
Everything depended on this moment. His life with Trowa would be forever changed by this act, by this night. He had to be careful, and yet abandon care at the same time. Trowa would be afraid, but all beaten dogs were at first afraid of their rescuers. Quatre was patient, he'd train Trowa. Train his lover to come when called, to sit when told, and to beg, with everything he was. Quatre would mark him, claim him, make Trowa realize that the pain of his past, the agony of his childhood was a memory, and Quatre was his reality. Trowa had escaped the men that raped him and controlled him for power, now Quatre would control him for protection, and make love to him until he cried out in defeat.  
  
Whisper soft, Quatre trailed his hand up Trowa's face, passing features he loved and adored more than any others. He brushed long bangs from Trowa's face, pushing the damp hairs away, clearing Trowa's face so he could truly see him, all of him, his Trowa.  
  
Claim him, the voices screamed, Make him yours. He belongs to you, make him understand that, make him realize that you own him, mind, body, and soul. Only then can he be truly safe, from everything; the outside world, you, and himself.  
  
His fingertips brushed softly over Trowa's forehead, his lover closed his eyes at the contact.  
  
"Mine."  
  
Claim him!  
  
He ran his fingers over Trowa's elegant eyebrows, auburn like his hair.  
  
"Mine."  
  
Make him yours!  
  
Fingers danced over closed eyelids, and he watched as Trowa opened his eyes; felt butterfly kisses against his sensitive fingers.  
  
"Mine."  
  
He belongs to you!  
  
Once again over cheekbones that angled his features; he felt Trowa's muscle twitch.  
  
"Mine."  
  
Make him understand!  
  
Back up his hand went, digits caressing a nose Quatre had always thought looked so perfect on a face so openly graceful, and quietly beautiful.  
  
"Mine."  
  
Make him realize you own him!  
  
Smooth mouth, lines cut into pure marble; they opened slightly at his touch.  
  
"Mine."  
  
Mind. Body. Soul.  
  
Trowa's tongue darted out to taste his fingers; he smiled in response.  
  
Only then can he be truly safe!  
  
He extracted his wet fingers, touching a chin he'd leaned up to kiss on more than a thousand nights spent together, locked tightly away from the world.  
  
"Mine."  
  
From Everying! The outside world! You! Himself!  
  
Blue met Green.  
  
Arabian to Latino.  
  
Lover to Lover.  
  
Owner to Possession.  
  
"Mine."  
  
No hesitation.  
  
"Yours."  
  
Yes! Cried the voice in his head.  
  
Yes! Cried that part of him that had waited so very long to hear that one word.  
  
Yes! Yes! Yes!  
  
This was as it should be!  
  
He pulled Trowa's head down, claiming lips and tongue with his own. Trowa's arms circled his waist, wrapping around his body, and pulling them tightly together. They groaned as one, bodies meeting in dramatic tension. That one word, "Yours," Quatre felt it, sent Trowa's heart and emotions soaring. Everything in Trowa desired this, everything! Words meant little, actions meant everything. Trowa didn't want to be in charge, he wanted to be taken care of, like he hadn't been as a child or teenager. That hidden part of Trowa's mind that had healed from his childhood at Quatre's patient hands, cried out in joy. It wasn't as it had been with Quatre only a month before; Trowa desired to be protected, not be the protector, and now that Quatre was stronger than he'd ever been before, it was time for things to be how they'd been, only different, and infinitely better.  
  
Quatre pulled away, the voices quietly whispering in the back of his mind.  
  
"You are mine, beloved."  
  
"Yes."  
  
"I will love you, keep you safe from everything the world has ever known, that Allah has ever created."  
  
"Yes, Quatre."  
  
"But you are mine."  
  
Trowa's eyes dropped, looking away from his intense gaze.  
  
"I want to be yours."  
  
"You always have been, beloved. My Trowa, I've been so selfish, but no more. Your body tells me what it wants, what it has always wanted. I've ignored it for so long, tried so hard to protect your delicate mind. But it's time Trowa, time for you to understand on a conscious level what your body already knows."  
  
"Quatre?"  
  
Green eyes, sought out aqua blue.  
  
"You've always belonged to me."  
  
Trowa cried out suddenly, his body voicing the tidal wave of horrors and fears that crashed instantly against his exposed defenses. Where moments before his healed mind had cried out in joy and completion, now the still damaged portion fought and won. Not all of Trowa's mind was healed, and the agony of the parts that weren't overrode the parts that had finally found peace.  
  
His arms left their place around Quatre's waist, and instead gripped his hips and tried to push him away. Fear danced across the link, total and utter fear.  
  
Quatre glanced up at Trowa's face, his eyes searching for some part of Trowa's soul that had not suddenly and violently retracted in terror.  
  
"Nooooooo, no."  
  
"Trowa-"  
  
"No, no, please no."  
  
There was none, Trowa wasn't with him anymore, he was lost, lost in memories where men much larger than Quatre had forced themselves past his defenses. Where burly men that had no business even breathing took out their frustrations out on a little boy that could not say no. Quatre watched as Trowa's face shifted his eyes clouding over, misting, and releasing his suffering in a way he could not so many years ago.  
  
Mentally, Quatre cursed violently. This wouldn't work. Trowa wouldn't learn anything like this. He hadn't taken into account that he'd scared Trowa only hours before; hadn't taken into account that Trowa's mind had already been racing with long ago horrors.  
  
This won't do! The voices cried. He's too afraid, he doesn't see who you are now. Go back, return later. Show him he's still in control for now, show him he's not lost anything in this exchange. Salvage what you can, he knows you know he belongs to you, leave it at that. You've claimed a part of his soul tonight, claim mind and body another. You must reform him, not break him, never break him, he belongs to you, but you must never abuse that belonging. Cherish him, love him, you'll possess him later.  
  
Gently, Quatre lifted his hands to take Trowa's away from his covered face. Panicked eyes found and burrowed deeply into him. Quatre felt the link flood with Trowa, felt his lover searching desperately for him, through the pain of the past.  
  
"Hush my Trowa, you're safe now. Shhh, you're safe; I am here. My Trowa."  
  
He wrapped his arms about Trowa's neck, pulled his beloved down and into his protective body. Trowa shivered against him, his arms wrapped about his own waist, even as Quatre held him close.  
  
"Q-Quatre?"  
  
"That's right, beloved, I'm here. Shhhh. You're safe, the past can't hurt you, nothing will ever hurt you. Hush now, don't be afraid. I'm here, I've got you, my Trowa. Shhhhh."  
  
"Q-Quatre, what's-what's happening?"  
  
"I frightened you, my love. Shhhhh, don't worry, you're safe. You haven't lost anything, my Trowa. You're alright."  
  
The link flashed once again, flashed and uncoiled tendrils that caressed his mind and sought out the truth of his words. He felt Trowa's body release it's tension as he found the love Quatre had for him, the blinding need to protect him and shelter him from everything.  
  
Then just as suddenly, Trowa crumpled before him, and it took all of Quatre's remaining strength to hold him up. Loud whaling sobs escaped Trowa, and Quatre wept with him, knowing his lover hurt because of him, because he'd been so selfish in the past.  
  
"Oh, Trowa, my Trowa, please forgive me. I've done this, I hurt you again, even though I promised I wouldn't. I try to be strong enough to give you what you need and I can't, I just can't hurt you. I'm so, sorry, Trowa, so sorry." He continued, running his hands through Trowa's hair over and over, but to no avail, Trowa could not be comforted by so simple an act.  
  
For what seemed like forever, they rested on their knees, Trowa's cheek pressed against Quatre's chest, while he tried desperately to ease Trowa's suffering. Finally, Quatre could take no more.  
  
With his mind, his God gifted abilities, he brushed against Trowa's thoughts and felt the raw pain and fear he'd caused. With deliberate and practiced care, Quatre sifted carefully through Trowa's emotions, sorting them into categories, and brushing the horrible self defeating and incriminating ones to fall dormant again, back to lie in wait for another night like this one.  
  
Slowly, Trowa began to calm down. Harsh sobs turned into soft whimpers, and violent shakes became slight tremors. Quatre rocked him, whispering softly, offering words of love and forever, lulling Trowa with word and mental powers into a light trance.  
  
Minutes turned into an hour as Quatre continued the dusting he worked so deliberately on his partner. He collected the aches and pains, the remembered tortures of nearly a decade, and stored them away, clearing Trowa's mind of everything but Quatre's love for him.  
  
Now Trowa lay quietly in his embrace, his eyes blinked but saw nothing. Trowa simply stared into nothing, and Quatre let him, let him search the void and rest there. They weren't done yet.  
  
Finally, he released his lover, the mental terror he'd been in now little more than remembered fear.  
  
Trowa blinked and shifted, looking up at him with wide eyes.  
  
"Quatre?"  
  
He smiled lovingly, "I scared you, Trowa. I'm sorry. You'll be ok. I've shifted a few of your more frightening emotions away from the surface, if you stay calm you'll be just fine."  
  
Trowa looked confused for a few moments, before turning pleading eyes on him once again.  
  
"Why Quatre? Why were you acting like that? Did-did I do something wrong?"  
  
Quatre whimpered and pulled Trowa gently to him.  
  
"No beloved, you didn't do anything. I've done this all. I need to make you understand something very soon, or it may be too late. I know you're confused, I am too, but this has to be done. I have to make you understand, and I will, I won't leave you like this, not knowing what's real and what isn't. Be calm, my Trowa. I love you, remember that; and remember that I'll set things right, no matter what the cost. I'll keep you safe."  
  
"Quatre."  
  
Trowa folded into him, drawing his legs up until he was awkwardly situated in Quatre's lap. Softly he rocked them, his hands rubbing soothing circles in Trowa's back. Whispering promises he reinforced with the aid of the link.  
  
They stayed that way for some time, Quatre soothing Trowa's battered soul with touch and sound that Trowa knew belonged to Quatre. And when he finally deemed Trowa ready, Quatre urged him to stand, and cautiously he moved them towards the bed.  
  
He tugged lightly when Trowa hesitate, and sat patiently while Trowa decided to stay or bolt away from him. Finally, his lover perched next to him, and Quatre took his hand and offered a quick squeeze before standing and divesting himself of the remainder of his clothing.  
  
He watched as Trowa's eyes widened in almost fear, before Trowa shook his head to banish the panic that once again stole through him. Quatre kneeled by his feet, catching Trowa's eyes, and forcing his beloved to look at him.  
  
"I've hurt you Trowa, and I've made you afraid of me-"  
  
"NO! Quatre that isn't-"  
  
"Yes, my Trowa, it's necessary, but true. You crave it, but you're not ready to accept what I have to give you yet. It's alright my love, you'll have what you need, no matter what it costs me to give it to you. This is the right way, the way that will in the end cause us the least amount of pain, but if you can't, if it's too much to ask from you, then I won't. Whatever you need, my Trowa; no matter what it is, I'll give it to you. You'll have it.  
  
"Now I've frightened you, and for just a moment you felt out of control. You've never been out of control with me, my Trowa. I've always made sure that you had all the control you needed to do whatever you wanted, but I tried to take just a little of that control away tonight, and I frightened you. It's alright, don't be sad, none of this is your fault, my love; none of it. But you think it is, and that isn't acceptable.  
  
"I've always know that control for you is very dependent on the act of sex; always known that that would be the place to begin and end things with you. You're afraid right now, afraid you've lost the control you crave, so I'll give it back to you. I'll prove to you, that you lost nothing tonight. It'll hurt more next time, my Trowa, but now isn't the time to think of such things."  
  
He turned away then, reaching into the nightstand drawer and extracting a jar of lightly scented oil. He opened the jar quietly, and looked up for permission to touch Trowa's body.  
  
The fear wasn't completely gone. Trowa looked confused, as if Quatre's entire speech had fallen on ears not able to comprehend it.  
  
Slowly, so as not to startle him, Quatre leaned up and kissed him. He nuzzled his throat, and whispered softly into his ear.  
  
"My Trowa, you'll take back your control tonight. I'll give it back to you because you seem to want to hold onto it so badly. You'll take my body tonight, show your seeming control over me, and I'll let you, I'll yield to you. It's not what you really want, my love, but for now, it's all you can stand."  
  
He kissed Trowa again, allowing his lips to part his lover's before carefully coaxing their tongues to play together. It was a long kiss, and Quatre pressed his thoughts of passion onto Trowa's mind, pulling his lover into an honest promise of release.  
  
Seconds became minutes, as Quatre used hands, body, and mind to bring Trowa to that place where fear was cast aside, and passions could be ignited.  
  
Finally, Trowa responded.  
  
Callused hands kneaded heated flesh, and Quatre moaned to encourage Trowa to continue. Slowly they worked together to make the slightest touch electric, the most whispered of breaths shivering.  
  
Quatre's mind rebelled, swore again and again this wasn't right, but he pushed his thoughts aside. Now Trowa needed him to be what Trowa thought him to be. He would be weak for Trowa, so his most beloved possession did not fear him; because Quatre was weak, but only when it came to Trowa.  
  
When Quatre felt the last of the fear escape from Trowa's thoughts, he dipped his fingers into the crystal jar, and anointed his lover, preparing him for what was to come. His hand glided over ridged flesh, and he tried his best to surrender to the sounds of passion Trowa made above him. Light kisses, and soft caresses fueled Trowa on, and Quatre watched with a measure of some happiness that Trowa found pleasure in this false act of lovemaking.  
  
When Trowa was ready, Quatre stood, and moved behind his partner on the bed, lying out length wise and waiting for Trowa to come to him. He didn't wait long.  
  
It was like their usual lovemaking. It was gentle and kind, soft and loving. Trowa entered him slowly, careful to cause as little pain as he could to an unprepared body. Quatre grimaced in pain, not the physical, but the blinding agony of knowing he'd failed his beloved yet again.  
  
Trowa kissed him as the rhythm began, and Quatre kissed him back, careful to make sure Trowa didn't see the tears in his eyes. Eventually a strong hand found it's way to his only partial arousal, and Quatre had to look away from Trowa's questioning and hurt eyes. He smiled back when he could, willing his body to abandon itself to the pleasure Trowa was trying to give him; his body barely inclined itself.  
  
With mental strength he didn't think he possessed-or had the ability to use in his exhausted state-Quatre forced his body to feel the strokes Trowa moved him with; forced his body to respond, even if his mind remained silent.  
  
He felt Trowa's pleasure through the link, and created answering emotions of his own, forcing himself to make the lie seem as true as possible.  
  
And then, finally, Trowa's release flooded him, and burned him with shame that he could not enjoy the moment the way Trowa wanted him too. In a last attempt to protect Trowa's feelings, he locked his mind around the blinding mental release Trowa had felt, and once again forced his body to comply in kind. There was no satisfaction, only release, and he felt horribly empty when the act was complete.  
  
Exhausted from the ordeal, he closed the link to prevent Trowa from realizing the lie, before he pulled Trowa against him and ran his fingers through sweaty hair.  
  
"Thank you, Trowa."  
  
His lover tried to sit up, but Quatre held him firm, not daring to let his beloved see the tears racing down his face. Trowa wouldn't understand, couldn't understand how hopelessly empty this mating had left him. He imagined Trowa would say he did, but Quatre couldn't make the comparison; Trowa had felt empty by strangers, he felt empty and abandoned by his lover.  
  
He recognized that Trowa was trying to speak to him, but Quatre simply couldn't take it right now. With the last of his available strength, he pushed open the link, and planted a firm suggestion for Trowa to sleep. Moments later, he heard the deep and easy breathing of his beloved, felt the warm wet heat drift across his skin.  
  
And in that moment, while Trowa slept peacefully in his embrace, Quatre wept. Sobs shook his body completely and gasping breaths brushed the auburn hair of Trowa's bangs. He sobbed for his weakness and his selfishness, he sobbed for his broken lover, and he sobbed for himself, cried himself to sleep wondering if in the end, Trowa really would be the death of him. 


	17. Chapter 17

Even with Trowa's warm body pressed intimately against his, Quatre was cold like ice. He shivered as he awoke with a start; using all of his self control not to push his lover off and scurry away from him. Gritting his teeth together Quatre shifted, careful not to disturb Trowa's sleep, or touch his warm skin any more than he absolutely had too.  
  
He felt the bile rise in his throat as he looked quickly away from his contented lover and fled to the adjoining bathroom. Dramatic heaves racked his body and he emptied the contents of his stomach as cool sweat broke out across his naked body. Images of Trowa touching him, kissing him, licking the hollow of his throat assaulted his senses as again he heaved and shook with stress.  
  
Trowa, his beloved Trowa. He'd broken Trowa long ago, promised him things he couldn't deliver; promised him things that Quatre could not bear to give him because it would now cause too much pain. Trowa, beautiful, broken, confused, Trowa.  
  
Standing on shaking legs, Quatre moved to the shower and turned the water on, not bothering to check the temperature before stepping inside. The water was scalding, burning him the instant it touched his skin, and he was thankful; for the pain and for the measure of cleanliness he obtained from it.  
  
Quatre didn't notice his skin turning an ugly shade of reddish black as the water continued to burn layer after layer of skin from his exposed body. He wasn't clean enough, he could still feel Trowa's hands all over, his mouth across his chest. Grabbing a washcloth he didn't bother to soap it, just ran the coarse material against his already red chest. Stroke after vicious, powerful stroke, ruptured the skin, and Quatre watched in sick fascination as his body began to bleed its pain.  
  
He wanted to scream, wanted to cry out that he was sorry; that he had never meant to hurt his Trowa so very much. That he loved Trowa, had always tried to protect him, but in the end it had been for naught.  
  
He'd tried to take control last night, tried to be the man Trowa's body needed him to be; but his scared and confused lover couldn't bear it. Quatre couldn't blame him. Trowa had gone from being ultra secure in Quatre's strength to realizing that it was nothing more than a show he'd put on to keep his demons at bay. His elegant lover had had to fend for both of them, once his defenses had come crashing down. Now that Quatre was finally able to assume the mantel he'd once held under false pretenses, how could he blame Trowa for refusing to accept one more, "New and Improved" Quatre Winner? He couldn't, but he had to try, no matter what it did to him. He'd sworn a lifetime ago to be whatever Trowa needed him to be, and he was not going to let his lover down yet again.  
  
Shutting the scalding water down, he sank to his knees as the cooler air nauseated him further and blackness threatened to sweep over his damaged senses. His mind reeled that it wouldn't do to have Trowa find him passed out in the bathroom; wouldn't help matters if his lover saw his weakness yet again. And with that thought, the voices returned.  
  
Get up! Stand up, boy! You're a man, aren't you?! I didn't have thirty girls! On your feet, take it like a man! This is for you own good, boy! Don't you dare cry out! Silly, Quatre Winner, so it's boys now is it? I will not loose everything I have because you "choose" to be fucked like a dog! .This is what hurt the most, Quatre, what caused me the most agony. You did this to yourself, boy! Yeah, we treated him well, like a god damned prince! I promise, I promise, I'll take care of you.  
  
"Stop it! Please stop it!" But the voices continued, offering quote after quote from his past.  
  
His hands flew to his ears to quite the continuous barrage of voices, but they couldn't be stopped that way, they came from within, mocking him with their refusal to die, even after endless hours of therapy.  
  
Staggering to his feet, he didn't bother to dry off, just left the bathroom. As he entered the bedroom, the voices began to scream at him.  
  
Look! Look there! See what you've done?! You've turned your bed of love into a bed of lies! He lays there now, thinking you're snuggled against him, that he's safe from the world, but it's lies! You can't claim him, you're too weak! He needs a man to care for him, and you're just a boy; a selfish little boy! He sacrificed everything to be with you and now it's killing him, now you not them, are destroying him! He trusted you to love him enough to sacrifice everything to be with him, and all you've done is throw him to the wolves! He's still afraid! You left him adrift and afraid! How could you?!  
  
".I know.I'm sorry, so so sorry." His words were soft whispers of agony as he moved silently across the room to the closet. Inside he selected a pair of pants and a dark sweater, hoping the combination would keep him semi warm against the cold fear in his soul.  
  
He couldn't look towards the bed as he left the closet. He nearly ran for the door; ran to it to escape the vision of beauty that was his silent partner.  
  
The door hissed behind him as he escaped to the living room. He felt her before he saw her. Killashandra, dressed in one of the nightgowns they'd purchased for her only the day before, sat regally on the couch; her sleep tousled curls lay limply about her frame as she petted Star, who perched on her lap. Her eyes were watching him as he stood frozen in the doorway, frozen by a pair of green eyes that had haunted his nightmares for months.  
  
She was a fairy child. Her nearly emaciated arms and legs poked out from her gown, while her white blond hair and transparent skin caused the green of her eyes to jump out immediately and hold him under her spell. She was like one of those magical creatures of legend; those better left to stories then ever witnessed in true life.  
  
He watched as Star stood, stretched and then jumped down from Killashandra's lap to land soundlessly on the floor at her feet. He looked up just in time to see her raise her arms in a silent demand to be lifted and held. It was a demand he found he could not deny.  
  
Slowly, with leadened feet, he trekked across the plush carpet, kneeling before the couch and Killashandra's still outstretched hands. Silently he lifted her from her seat before taking her place and situating her on his lap. He snuggled her close, rocking her gently back and forth as he hummed a soft Arabic lullaby he'd once heard Koeran hum to his little sister on a night long ago.  
  
Killashandra fisted his sweater into her small hand and pulled tightly against him. Suddenly there was a flash of brilliant white light, and Quatre closed his eyes against its intensity. When he opened his eyes it was all the same, Killashandra still sat in his lap, Star still sat in her new spot in a patch of sunlight, but the voices, the metallic voices, had been silenced.  
  
He knew it was her, this tiny child that rested in his arms. He knew she'd begun it as much as she'd ended it. The voices were her creation, Shingam had said that Killashandra was trying to tell him something he needed to know. Did he know what it was now? Yes, he knew. He was a selfish bastard who'd abandoned his family and disgraced his father, all for what? So he could sleep beside a man instead of a woman; so he could tuck Trowa against his body at night and pretend he had no other obligations but to be a lover? Yes, that's what he'd done, and he'd fucked it up like he had everything else in his life. He'd disobeyed and now everyone would suffer, his father was dead because he hadn't listened, his sisters cried themselves to sleep because he'd committed sins against Allah, but mostly he'd hurt Trowa, he'd hurt his most precious possession.  
  
NO, THAT ISN'T RIGHT.  
  
This new voice drifted through his mind like rice paper on the wind, light and airy, crisp and cool.  
  
"Isn't.right?"  
  
NO, YOU'RE WRONG.MAKE IT RIGHT.YOU.FIX IT.  
  
"Fix it?"  
  
.ISN'T MUCH.FIX.BETTER.  
  
"Fix it."  
  
.A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z NOW I KNOW MY A B C'S NEXT TIME WON'T YOU SING WITH ME.A B C D E F G H I J K L M N.  
  
".Killashandra." He pulled back, lifted her head from his shoulder and looked deeply into her eyes. She wasn't looking at him, but through him, staring into a world he could not see. But it didn't matter, he now understood.  
  
Standing he moved them into the children's room. Once there he silently dressed her in a simple outfit of cotton, before lifting her again into his arms. Moving to the bed, he pulled the covers more securely across Shingam's sleeping form, before exiting the bedroom, and eventually the apartment.  
  
He left no note as he carried the once again oblivious Killashandra into the pilot's private dinning hall. Minutes ticked by as he prepared her breakfast and quietly fed her, not bothering to speak to her, knowing she could hear his thoughts if she so chose.  
  
When she'd finished, he lifted her again and deposited the dishes in the collector before traveling back down the hallway; away from his home and Trowa's still sleeping body. He walked much like Killashandra would have, oblivious to the smiles and good mornings' he received from fellow workers and those in his own squad. He passed Lady Une and Marieminna without even recognizing their features, he had a mission now, a place to be, to work out a plan of action.  
  
At the door, he bypassed the ringer and just knocked, loudly.  
  
When it opened, it revealed Corinne Nammon's worried face.  
  
"My God Quatre, what are these emotions I'm sensing from you?!"  
  
"Corinne, I need to talk with you. May I come in?"  
  
"By all that's holy, get your ass in here!" She stepped away from the door and allowed him to enter. He noticed as a passing thought, that she was dressed in her usual clinical attire, and had her notebook and recorder already placed beside her antique fainting couch. He raised an eyebrow. "I've been expecting you all morning. I started to sense your emotions last night, but when they faded, I thought you might just sleep them off, I should have known better. You seem calmer than you were earlier. How do you feel?"  
  
"Hopeful."  
  
"Hopeful?"  
  
"Hopeful."  
  
Without another word, he moved across the room and laid down upon the couch. Usually he preferred to sit in the chair that rested across from Corinne's desk; he didn't like the clique-ness of lying on a couch and telling a shrink all of his problems. But today was different, he wasn't really here to tell Corinne anything, only verbally think through what had happened, and formulate a plan. With no resistance from Killashandra, he lifted the girl to lay on his chest, and he noted that she seemed to fall into a light sleep almost before Corinne took her customary seat across from him.  
  
She started the recorder.  
  
"You know, there's an old theory. It says that if a patient comes into your office and lies on the couch instead of sits on it, it means they want to talk about sex. Care to prove the theory right or wrong?"  
  
"A part of Trowa thinks that last night, I tried to rape him."  
  
She was stunned into silence for a moment. He'd said it so clinically, as if it truly meant nothing; as if it hadn't happened to the man he loved. "Why would he think that, Quatre?"  
  
"Because I never taught him the difference."  
  
"What do you mean? Explain."  
  
"Have you ever read the Qu'ran, the book written by the profit Mohammed?" Silently she shook her head. "It's not unlike the Hebrew Torra, it tells the people how to live their lives. Would you like me to tell you what it says?"  
  
"If you need to tell me, then go ahead."  
  
He nodded once, not bothering to look at her. She was there only as a means to think up things he hadn't thought of in his confused mind. He wasn't here to see her, and as such stared at the ceiling above him. "The Qu'ran teaches that it is a mans job to protect his wife. He must protect her from everything that could possibly hurt her. From the world around her, to the harshness of the desert, to the fellow men in the caravan; it is his ultimate responsibility to protect her against all of Allah's creations.  
  
"And a wife knows this, understands that it is her place to be protected by her husband. To this end she submits to his will, does as she's told, is ruled by her husband. Your western ideas may rail against this, may think it's an archaic way of thinking, but listen closely and you'll begin to understand.  
  
"Allah gave woman to man, gave wife to husband. She belongs to him, like property. This is not something for her to fight against, not if it's done the way Allah wished it to be. Because women and wife have a way of shaping their own destiny; they may be possessions of men and their husbands but their job in that partnership allows them infinite power."  
  
He stole a glance and saw Corinne's face creased in worry and confusion. He smiled softly to her. "Don't worry, Corinne, I'm about to explain." She only nodded.  
  
"A woman and wife's place is to care for her husband, to honor and love him above all other things. Do you understand what that means? Can you comprehend the dynamics of such a powerful position? A man controls the outside environment, he keeps the storms from ripping her apart, he keeps men from taking her without permission, he does everything in his power to keep nature from touching her with harmful intentions. But it is a woman and wife that has the great power. You see, it is she that holds her husband or lover when the world becomes too much for his battered soul, it is she that shelters him from the most terrifying thing to a man, his own mind, his own doubts.  
  
"So a man owns a woman and protects her from the world, and a woman owns her own destiny because she tends to the mind that protects her. Does that make sense to you?" He looked at her then and knew immediately it did not.  
  
"I can't say much about the Arabic notion of the Qu'ran now a days, but I've read history books where women were extremely oppressed Before Colony. Their husbands did it, beat them and oppressed them all in the name of the Qu'ran."  
  
Quatre nodded. "The holy book was written by a man, a great prophet sent by Allah, but a man none the less; and it is interpreted by men just like him. Men, man as a species is fallible, prone to misinterpretation. Back then, men read the great book and thought to make their wives their slaves. But that's not what the book meant, not what Allah desired from his people.  
  
"The Qu'ran says to honor and love thy wife and family; you can't do this by oppression and sporadic beatings that invoke terror. I'll try to explain. When there is trust between a woman and man, she will do as she is told because she loves her husband, honors him; and her husband will do the very best he can to take care of her for the same reasons. The world of the Qu'ran's writing was a harsh world and Allah knew this. Women did as their husbands instructed them, but this did not mean they had no say in their fates.  
  
"A man must listen to all sides of the argument, he must listen to what his wife desires and decide if she will be hurt in any way by it. A man and woman, husband and wife can argue about something as long as they like, can list the pro's and con's for as long as needed, but ultimately it is the man's job to make a decision; and his wife-who loves, honors, and most of all trust him-will concede, knowing he made the best decision possible for her because he loves her. That is where the Before Colony men were wrong, they were not thinking of their wives, they thought only of themselves. They broke the sacred contract of marriage, and I often wonder why their women stayed with such dishonorable men. There must be trust for a relationship such as Allah's ideal to come into being."  
  
"Alright, let me try to summarize and make sure I understand." He nodded his head and watched as she took a deep breath and began. "You believe that men and women, husbands and wives, must trust each other completely in the sacrament of marriage. Through this trust is borne an understanding that a man will possess his wife and a woman will agree to this possession because she knows that her husband loves her and would never do anything to harm her. In fact, he loves her so much, trusts her so much, that he's willing to shoulder the consequences of his choices, and have no blame fall onto his wife, for any decision because he is the one ultimately responsible for all decisions. Am I doing ok so far?" He nodded. "Alright, so the woman is owned, but in reality it's only to instill a sense of security into her. In actuality, she makes every decision equally with her husband except those things they cannot agree on, where she abdicates to him to make the decision for the both of them because she trust in him to do the right thing for them both.  
  
"Normally I'd say this was an unequal relationship, but you said that it is a wife's job to protect her husband from himself. Do you mean from his past?"  
  
He shook his head. "No. More like his worry that the decisions he makes are the wrong ones. That is the most important, his wife must have unwavering faith in him, otherwise the self doubt of his decisions for her will rip him apart until he can no long make any decisions. This is what is known as a broken man."  
  
"Is that what you and Trowa are?"  
  
"Yes and no. It's what we were, but under false pretenses and lies I created to protect him. Now we no longer have it and it's killing us both."  
  
"This is about last night?"  
  
"No. It's been going on a lot longer than that."  
  
Corinne sighed. "Quatre, I'm having a hard time following what you're telling me. And if Trowa really does think that you raped him last night I need to be there with him when he wakes up. Furthermore, I still don't even understand what happened."  
  
He nodded once, absently; he still wasn't here for her benefit.  
  
"You were right, what you said. The type of relationship I just explained to you is not equal. It's a partnership, but not an equal one." He caught her eye. "Have you ever played a team sport?"  
  
"Yes, basketball, in college."  
  
"Good, then you understand the need for the team captain."  
  
"He's for morale and to make fast decisions."  
  
"In a way. The captain of a sports team has the trust of the team. They trust in him to do what's right for the team, no matter what. Would you say the team captain listens to the other players and their opinions most of the time?"  
  
"Usually."  
  
"Are the team members and the team captain equal in their power to make decisions? Does a guard have as much power over the team as the captain?"  
  
"No."  
  
"But the team trusts their captain to make the best decision for them. The captain listens to them and then makes a decision that the members follow."  
  
"But this isn't a team, Quatre, this is a relationship that means more than winning a game, it means living a life, sharing a life with someone."  
  
He sighed. She wasn't speaking for herself in Quatre's eyes now; she was speaking for Trowa. These would be Trowa's arguments, what he would be thinking as he listened to Quatre explain.  
  
"The relationship I'm explaining is one of sixty, forty. A husband controls sixty percent while a wife controls forty. A husband makes a decision, has the decision making power, but cannot ignore the other forty percent, it's too great a percentage to ignore; a percentage that could destroy their bond if ignored."  
  
"Quatre you speak of this like it's a boardroom decision and not someone's life."  
  
"I know that's what it sounds like to you, but it's more than that. It's feelings and emotions, love and protection. You asked about Trowa. My Trowa is a strong and brave man. He's more brave and strong than most people give him credit for. Few people could have survived life without a name for nearly fifteen years; few people could have been the slave and sex toy to a band of cut throat mercenaries for hire; and few could have seen and done everything my Trowa did in the war and still control their sanity. But Trowa is strong and resourceful, proud and brave; he's strong in body, but not in spirit.  
  
"I know what you're thinking, Corinne. That Trowa has a very strong spirit, that people have oppressed his spirit and that he's actually hiding it to protect himself; that is what most psychiatrists would say, but that's just not so.  
  
"Trowa is strong when he has to be, but in reality he's very delicate, like fine crystal or porcelain. These things are strong for a time, but under constant wear, they crack and eventually shatter. Trowa is like this. When I was.sick, he took care of me, he took control and I let him; I let him because I couldn't anymore. Like a woman must take control if her husband falters, she will take care of him for a time. But she can't take care of him all the time; her place is to be protected, not protect. In an emergency she assumes that mantle, the one of her husband, but when the husband is better, he must take it back. And for us, Trowa and myself, that time has come. I'm stronger then I've ever been, more able then ever to be the man Trowa needs me to be. My lover's very strong, but he'd rather be taken care of, rather follow than lead. Part of that is his past, what those men did to him, and part of it is that I never taught him any other way.  
  
"When Trowa and I got together he was like unformed emotional clay. I took him into my hands like an artist and formed him, molded him into the man you know. And Trowa allowed it, relished it, because it meant that I cared enough about him to try; loved him enough to show him with action instead of just words that mean nothing to him. Before I met him, if there were no actions, Trowa didn't understand. I taught him to feel with emotions he'd long given up on ever being able to feel again. I showed him that not everything is accomplished by physicality, that some things can simply be understood by word alone." He paused and smiled wistfully at the ceiling.  
  
"You know, the first time I told him I loved him he looked at me like I was crazy. Words. They held no meaning for him. For him, if I wanted him to know that I loved him, I had to show him; kiss him, touch him, hold him until ungodly hours of the night. But to speak words of love meant nothing to him. I could feel it, you know, feel that he didn't understand what I meant when I told him I loved him. I took him into my arms and held him close to my body; I kissed his hair and his face, touched him everywhere I was allowed at the time, and then, eventually I turned his face to look at mine and said clearly, 'I love you.' Mix words and actions after that, and he could understand. Tears with the words, 'I'm sad,' let him know what I meant, but until then he didn't know. I taught him eventually what words meant by themselves, but it took a very, very long time; actually, it's not unlike what Duo had to go through with Heero."  
  
"Are you trying to tell me that Trowa wants this type of relationship you're presenting? That Trowa wants to be controlled by you so that he can feel safe?" He nodded. "What makes you so sure?"  
  
Quatre smiled slightly and ran his fingers through the tangle of Killashandra's hair. "It's the way it was before, Corinne. Before I got.sick, it's the way it was. I told Trowa what to do and he did it. I made the best decisions I could for him and he knew it, knew I'd take care of him. But I got sick, and Trowa found out that I wasn't as strong as we both thought I was. So he took charge, he stood tall for me when I couldn't. He took control where it had always been, but not in name." Corinne looked skeptical. "I've never tried to rule Trowa's life. The mercenaries controlled him, I never did. More times then not, if Trowa wanted it, I was more than happy to give it to him. But we both knew that I made the decisions and Trowa could take comfort in that, that I had what seemed like control. But now he's had control in name, where as before he only had it in theory. He's afraid to give it back to me, afraid that I'm still not strong enough to take it back. He's afraid I'll fall again, and that without the control he now thinks he has, I'll hurt myself and him as well. But I'm stronger now, I can take care of us both like I never have been able to before. Part of Trowa knows that; and that part of him gave into me last night. But he's still afraid, and that part of him won't let go for fear of losing everything."  
  
There was a long silence as Quatre continued to run his fingers through Killashandra's hair, and Corinne stared at him with an unreadable expression. Her emotions were locked down tightly and Quatre could sense nothing from her at all. He sighed, knowing that she didn't understand what he was trying to say.  
  
"Quatre," she paused to await his complete attention. "Why don't you tell me what happened last night." It was a command, not a request. He obliged.  
  
He told her of the voices Killashandra had started in his head, explained that they were his own thoughts voicing what he knew had to be done but was afraid to do. He explained that Trowa desired for him to be strong and in control, but that he himself was too afraid of hurting Trowa's delicate mentality to fully press the issue. She stopped him there.  
  
"Why do you think Trowa has a delicate mentality?"  
  
He closed his eyes against the pain he knew this part of the conversation would bring him. But he knew he had to work it all out in his own mind before he could implement any course of action.  
  
"Like all heterosexual relationships, there are many different.positions a couple can engage in for sex." He looked to her for a nod. "Early in our sexual relationship, I learned quickly to be very careful with Trowa. I knew by this time he'd been raped, and I understood that there were things we couldn't do together."  
  
"Like what?"  
  
He smiled slightly in embarrassment to bring up such intimate details of their lives. "When I was with Koeran, we hardly ever made love facing each other. He was much taller than I was, larger in all ways actually. If we'd tried to make love, missionary style, I would have been extremely uncomfortable, and perhaps even hurt. To this end Koeran nearly always took me from behind, that is, I would kneel on hands and knees and he'd enter me so that I could not see his face. I knew it was Koeran I was with so it didn't matter if I couldn't see his face. That isn't so with Trowa.  
  
"Perhaps three months into our sexual relationship, I attempted something I should have known he wouldn't like. Trowa had often twisted out of my arms to face me when I'd positioned myself in ways that made him nervous, I never thought it was because he needed to see my face as we made love. On this particular night, I already had him on his stomach, so I lifted him from underneath with my arms and began kissing along is arched spine. I remember now that he tensed, but at the time I was too caught up in the moment to notice. It wasn't until I tried to.prepare him, that he bolted."  
  
He shivered involuntarily at the memory. He'd often looked back on that night and wondered how he could have been so selfish as not to see the warning signs. Trowa had shaken in his arms, but he'd only thought it was excitement. He'd whimpered, but Quatre had only believed it was from pleasure. His mind told him he couldn't have known, that they hadn't been lovers long enough for him to have understood all of Trowa's signals; but still a part of him felt guilty.  
  
"Before I knew what was happening, he was across the room and against the wall, terror in his eyes when he looked at me. Corinne, you can't possibly know what it's like to see terror seep from every pore of your lovers body, to know that you put that very terror there. I watched my proud lover wrap his arms around his naked body and slide down the wall into a body curl. I was too stunned to move as he began to rock himself slowly, whispering softly what I later found out to be words like, 'no' and 'please not again.' He thought I was them, and he was trapped in his own mind by his memories.  
  
"It took me half the night to calm him down enough that I could even approach him; he just keep yelling and crying if I moved towards him. I'd never seen Trowa yell before that night, and I'd only seen him cry a few times before, and never because of me."  
  
"It wasn't you, Quatre, it was his past."  
  
He shook his head. "It doesn't matter, I did it, I hurt him. He suffered because of me and that was all I needed to know."  
  
He lifted a hand as she moved to protest. "Another time, Corinne. Let me finish." She wearily nodded her acceptance and he continued.  
  
"It took me half the night just to be able to kneel in front of him, the rest of the night I spent coaxing him to let me touch him again. He kept flinching away from me, begging me not to hurt him. I don't know how many times his pain and fear overwhelmed me to the point I began to hate myself, but suffice it to say it was more than I ever care to remember. By early morning he'd crumpled into my arms, and was just lying there, not moving and trying not to be assuming, trying his hardest to make himself as small as possible. But his mind was calmer, if not still frightened beyond belief, and so I began the task of planting suggestions for him to sleep-"  
  
"You were able to plant suggestions?" Corinne's eyes were round in disbelief and wonder. He chuckled a little at her astonishment.  
  
"You've only seen me at my worst, Corinne. I can do quite a few amazing things." He winked at her and she rolled her eyes appropriately, but behind her eyes, he saw she was still awed by his admission.  
  
"After I had him asleep, I started working on the problem. Dusting is what I think Trowa said you called it; back then I called it saving his soul. I shifted his thoughts around one another, buried ones I couldn't deal with then, and moved the rest as best I could. In the end, when I finally woke him up, he didn't remember anything that happened that night, and I told him he'd had a fever and fainted."  
  
"You didn't tell him what happened?"  
  
He had the decency to look appalled by her suggestion. "Trowa didn't ask for me to terrify him that night, he didn't ask to be reminded about what happened in his past."  
  
"Yes, but to keep things from him like that-"  
  
"I've always done everything to protect Trowa, to take care of him. Allowing him to remember what had happened would have shamed him, he would have pushed me away because he would have thought he'd hurt my feelings, when in reality, I was the one that had hurt him. I would never allow him to feel guilty about my own mistakes. You see, that's the difference. I love Trowa enough to protect him from everything, even then I was protecting him from me and himself. It didn't matter what it did to me as long as he was safe, taken care of; that single drive has never changed, Corinne. I've done everything to protect him, and I always will; I love him, it's a simple as that."  
  
"I think I'm beginning to understand a little better, especially how you view the Qu'ran's teachings."  
  
He nodded.  
  
"Later, in a way that seemed natural, I got Trowa to admit that the mercenaries always raped him from behind. I learned quickly never to be with him like that. I couldn't bear to terrify him like that. But don't you see, when I did that I made an even bigger and more long term mistake."  
  
"I don't understand."  
  
He sighed. "By allowing Trowa to continue to be afraid, even while his mind knew I was the only one in the room, to still be afraid when it could be no other body that touched him but my own, condemned him to be afraid and on guard always with me. He didn't want to be, and he doesn't recognize it that way, but it's true. I should have found a way to reassure him while still taking him in such a way as he couldn't see me, it would only take once, Corinne. One time and Trowa would understand that I was in charge, and that since I hadn't hurt him, he could place all his still walfing trust in me. And I tried, so many times I tried to finish what needed to be completed. But always he'd run from me, and his terror would be like my own and I couldn't break through it to save us both. So I'd spend countless nights soothing him, only to make him forget so he felt no guilt in the morning. Last night wasn't any different except it was brought on by the voices Killashandra started, that and I didn't make him forget."  
  
"So last night, you tried to take him in such a way that he couldn't see you?"  
  
He shook his head. "Not exactly, that was my intention but we didn't get that far." He watched her confusion mount. "When Trowa and I make love that's the only thing we do. You can't define it as anything else. We express all of our emotions though a physical act because for Trowa, that is still the easiest way for him to communicate, action. We never have what most couples would view as sex, it's never for the shear need for release, each and every time it's a testament to our love for one another. Last night I tried to make it sex, and he couldn't stand that."  
  
She held up a hand to stop him. "I have a question and I want you to answer it honestly." He nodded hesitantly. "Are you satisfied with your sexual relationship with Trowa?"  
  
He paused, not knowing how to answer or even what the answer was exactly. Minutes passed before he turned to her and spoke with hesitation and much thought. "I treasure any moment I'm allowed to be with Trowa. He guards his heart so well that it's nearly impossible for anyone to know him without his permission. I was lucky he loved me back then or we never would have been together.  
  
"When I was with Koeran.things were different for me. I didn't lead in my relationship with him. I didn't know what I was doing any more than Trowa did. But Koeran would play with me." He paused to think. "Once, I went into my tent to take a nap, and Koeran jumped me from behind the closing flap. I remember being startled, but then that quick flash of fear made it more exciting. He was always doing things like that.I remember he once tackled me from behind when I was being a brat about something. He threw me to the sleeping mats and had my clothes off before I could blink. I guess you could say he was slightly rough with me, but he never hurt me, and I can honestly say I enjoyed it." He smiled shyly at her for a moment. "I've always liked a little pain with my pleasure."  
  
He shifted then, sitting up a little straighter as he continued. "It's a little frustrating not to be able to do those things with Trowa. He always has too see me before we begin anything. There are no surprises to our sexual relationship. It's the same nearly every time. I'm not complaining; like I said, I'll be with Trowa any way I can. But if your asking if I would change it if I could.probably. I like things a little rougher than Trowa allows for, but I'm not going to leave him because of it."  
  
"No, I'm not implying that you would. You know there are classes, therapies that you both can attend that can help; books you could read together." She trailed off as Quatre shook his head.  
  
"I've never told Trowa any of the things I've just told you. As far as he knows everything is perfect. And really it is; I have everything I need. Maybe not everything I want, but with a partner you must always make compromises. It's what I give to Trowa because I love him, because I want to protect him from his past pain. Like I am his husband and he is my wife, I'll protect him from everything Allah created, even myself."  
  
Corinne sighed. "Any kind of sexual differences can be hard on a couple. Everyone's appetites are different. Some people are into pain and some are not; others like the total lack of control while others crave it and cannot perform without it. What you and Trowa are experiencing is just differences in views. I bet if you told Trowa how you felt he'd be more inclined to try new things. If as you said, he thinks nothing's wrong, why should he try to change something. Again, it's back to your basic problem, Quatre: you and Trowa don't communicate, especially you. You try to take care of him so much, protect him from everything, that you don't allow him to see what's really going on. I know you didn't come here for this, but I suggest you speak with him about it anyway; at the very least, I don't think it will hurt as much as you think it will."  
  
She paused to let her words sink in, and for his part, Quatre thought. He listed the mental pro's and con's of allowing things to continue. Finally, he decided that if he told Trowa, and Trowa gained some kind of expectation, then maybe his taking back control wouldn't seem so foreign to Trowa; than maybe Trowa wouldn't fight so much if he knew what to expect.  
  
Eventually he nodded. "I'll consider it some more. I need to think about it."  
  
"Of course."  
  
He felt Killashandra take a deep breath before sitting up to look at him. He'd thought her asleep, but he noticed quickly that she'd simply been listening with her eyes closed. He tickled her under her chin and was rewarded when she focused on his face. She yawned quietly before looking quickly at Corinne and then shifting to a sitting position across his stomach.  
  
He laughed softly at her. "You understand everything we've been talking about, don't you Killa? Are you just absorbing information to process later, or are you thinking all the time, figuring out what your next move will be? I bet that's it, you're thinking even now what you're going to do if I do or say something else aren't you." He ran his hand through her hair and heard Corinne gasp as Killa leaned into the touch, closing her eyes and savoring the contact. "That's my girl. But you're too much like me, too much like me."  
  
Corinne cleared her throat. "You understand that she's not yours, don't you, Quatre? That she's not really your daughter."  
  
He turned to regard her before looking back at Killa who's movements couldn't be seen, but his hand felt, felt her nuzzling him for more contact.  
  
"Perhaps. But for how long?" He smiled at the little girl whose eyes focused again on his face.  
  
"Quatre-"  
  
A loud beep was heard over the base-wide intercom system. Quatre recognized the voice immediately.  
  
"Quatre?"  
  
Taking a deep breath and steeling himself for what was to come, Quatre sat up; Killashandra sliding off his stomach to rest in his lap. He held her so her cheek was pressed against his sternum.  
  
"I'm here, Trowa. I'm with Corinne."  
  
A pause, then, "Are you in a session?"  
  
"Just finishing one."  
  
Another pause. "I'd-I'd like to see you. Can you cut this session short?"  
  
He glanced at Corinne quickly. "I'll be there in a moment, Trowa."  
  
He could almost hear the nod his partner gave. "Barton, out."  
  
Turning he gave Corinne a shallow smile before lifting Killa into his arms and standing. "Thank you for listening to me."  
  
"That's my job." Quatre was at the door before she spoke again. "Quatre?" He turned. "What are you going to do if you were right?"  
  
Smiling wearily he spoke quietly, "I'll do what I've always done, make him forget."  
  
And with that, he left the room, Killashandra tightly held in his grasp. 


	18. Chapter 18

* * *  
  
Quatre had decided early on not to think about what had happened between himself and Trowa. Everything inside of him screamed that this was wrong, that he and Trowa couldn't possibly continue like they were; but Trowa needed to be in control-couldn't stand it any other way-and Quatre loved him enough to comply with his wishes, even if they killed him.  
  
After feeding both Killashandra and Shingam-himself, Trowa, Heero, and Duo had all gone to Corinne's for the first session with the children. Sally and Wufei had met them there. Lady Une came through to watch just as Shingam began to refuse the questions.  
  
"I'm not answering any more." Arms crossed in front of his chest, his body didn't look at all threatening, but his face, his eyes, told a tale of violence should he be made to continue.  
  
Shingam was sitting on the couch Quatre had been lying on only a few hours before. The others were scattered about the room with Corinne sitting in a chair directly in front of Shingam.  
  
Corinne spoke with kindness and infinite patience. "Shingam, I know you don't want to answer any more, but these questions and your answers are helping me to help you."  
  
"I don't need any help!" It was almost a shout, almost a yell. Surprisingly, it was Duo that rescued them all.  
  
"Hey, buddy, no worries. Listen, why don't you answer Corinne's last question and then you'll be done for the day. We'll give Killashandra a turn, and then you, me, and everybody else can go get some more ice cream, sound good?" Duo's eyes lit up, and it was easy to tell he actually was looking forward to spending time with Shingam.  
  
"Can-can we have the white kind? Va-vanil-"  
  
"Vanilla. And yeah, if that's the kind you want, then that's the kind you'll get! But you know, I think there were a few more flavors we didn't get to try last time. Maybe we'll pull out all the ice cream again and then you and Killashandra can pick what you want. How's that sound, Quatre?"  
  
Duo looked expectantly at Quatre, but the blonde's eyes weren't paying any attention to the scene before him. His stare was out the window, his thoughts were introspective.  
  
"Quatre?"  
  
Startled, Quatre looked up at Duo and blushed. "Sorry, I didn't hear what you said."  
  
Heaving a dramatic sigh, Duo restated his question. "After the session how's about we give the kids another taste of ice cream?"  
  
"You'll spoil their dinners."  
  
"So?"  
  
But Quatre didn't have the energy to continue. He waved his hand in a gesture of uncaring acceptance and quickly avoided the stare Corinne threw his way. He'd already moved across the room under the pretense of settling Shingam for the session. He was now sitting on the other side of the room from Trowa, trying desperately not to look at his lover; desperately not to break down into tears. The link was thankfully silent and void.  
  
Corinne's voice startled his attention back to the session currently going on.  
  
"Ok, Shingam, last question. When I say the word, 'Mother,' what do you think of?"  
  
The boy didn't hesitate. "Mother."  
  
Corinne smiled. "That's right, the word 'Mother' what does it make you think of, feel?"  
  
"I think of, Mother."  
  
"No, Shingam-"  
  
"Wait!" Quatre stood quickly from his seat and crossed the few feet that separated himself and the boy. Sitting on the couch, he lifted Shingam onto his lap before fishing around in his pocket for his wallet. Locating it he pulled out an image disk and quickly selected the picture he wanted. A beautiful blond woman in the early years of her life smiled back from a jungle paradise.  
  
"Shingam, is this a picture of your mother?"  
  
The boy took the imager and studied it, but shook his head at the same time. "She's not my mother, Killa and I don't have mothers'. But this is, Mother. She told us you were friends. That's why she said Killa and I could trust you."  
  
Quatre closed his eyes against the pain of this new discovery. He'd suspected, but it hurt to know he'd been right.  
  
"Quatre, who's the picture of?" It was Lady Une; he ignored her.  
  
"Yes Shingam, she was a friend of mine. Tell me, did-did she treat you and Killa well? Was-was she nice to you?"  
  
"Quatre?" This time it was Trowa, Quatre didn't turn to him.  
  
Shingam looked at him as if he had no idea about anything. The boy shook his head. "She wasn't nice to us; but she wasn't mean either. Sometimes she'd sing to Killa to get her to go to sleep. Sometimes she'd put Killa and I in the bath and wash our hair. She read a book to us once, it was.nice. But she wasn't nice."  
  
"How was she not nice? It sounds like she did nice things for you? It sounds like she was kind?" He was reaching and he knew it. He wanted so much to find some redeeming quality in her, to find a way to forgive her completely.  
  
But Shingam shook his head again. His voice was quiet, soft, as if he expected that if he was overheard he'd be punished, despite Quatre's promises to the contrary. "She never stopped them from coming, and if they came to hurt Killa, she's hold me down so they could take her away. She wasn't nice, Quatre. Not nice like you and Trowa. Killa and I would rather be with you and Trowa, it's warm here, and there's all kinds of food. You're nice and even Duo and Heero are nice too. They read to us, more than one story. We want to stay with you." A slight panic had entered the boy's voice as he'd continued and Quatre had pulled the young one tighter into himself, sheltering the boy from fears and doubt.  
  
"Shhhhh, Shingam. It's alright. You'll stay here with me for as long as you want. I understand now what she meant. I understand now." His last words weren't for Shingam's benefit but his own. He understood now, understood everything she'd said to him, and she was right, he would never forgive her.  
  
Corinne's voice was soft. "Who's the picture of, Quatre?"  
  
His voice was dead when he answered.  
  
"Dorothy. Dorothy Cateloneia."  
  
The room was silent out of respect; it wasn't proper to damn the dead.  
  
A full minute passed before Shingam began to squirm in his lap, and Quatre set him on the floor. "Shingam, why don't you go sit with Heero and Duo?" The boy nodded and moved to sit between the two men that made room for him on the couch they currently occupied with Trowa.  
  
Sensing the shift in subjects, Trowa stood, and carried Killashandra to sit on the couch beside Quatre. He wasn't ready for what happened next. Trowa reached for his hand, reached to give him a hand up and move him to sit back with the rest of them. But something happened, a blind terror at being touched by Trowa, by a man that he loved, by a man he lived the ultimate lie with. He'd pulled his hand away and recoiled before he'd even known he'd done it. Again, the room was silent.  
  
Quatre couldn't look; he didn't dare look up and see the betrayal in Trowa's eyes. He tried his best to laugh it off. He forgot it was the second time in only three days that he'd recoiled for Trowa's touch.  
  
"Sorry Trowa, you must have startled me." His hand felt like lead as he lifted it and placed it into Trowa's extended one. The disgust washed over him in waves, but he refused to acknowledge it, only a slight shiver throughout his entire body belied his true feelings at the simple contact.  
  
Worried, but thinking he understood, Trowa pulled him up to stand. Quatre was about to move with him when he felt a tug on his pant leg. He looked down to see that while Killashandra was by no means looking at him, her small hand held a gather of his kackee pants.  
  
Thankful for an out he never would have needed or wanted before, he quickly pulled out of Trowa's grasp and sat back down on the couch beside Killa. The room sat in stunned silence as Killashandra, first looked up at him, and then as if she'd done it everyday of her life, crawled into his lap and leaned her head against his chest.  
  
He gathered her limbs more comfortably against him and held her tightly, rocking her gently and smiling at her. "It's going to be ok, Killa. I'll sit with you if that'll make you feel better."  
  
She didn't acknowledge either way, but some part of him knew she was scared, must be, and so he stayed. He told himself it was for her, that he was going to protect her, her if no one else.  
  
"Quatre, are you alright?" Corinne's voice was laced with concern, but Quatre continued to look at Killa, smiling and softly rocking her.  
  
"Fine. Let's get started."  
  
Corinne hesitated, paused just long enough to worry him that she wouldn't continue but instead put him on the stand instead. When she started he couldn't suppress the sigh of relief he gave.  
  
"Killashandra, I know you're a little scared, but you saw what happened with Shingam, I'm not going to hurt you; I just need some information so that I can help you better. Do you understand?" Corinne waited expectantly for some type of answer, strangely she seemed perplexed when none was forthcoming.  
  
For Killashandra sat perfectly still in Quatre's lap, her head resting against his chest; her own chest rising and falling quietly in the silent room. Quatre continued to run artist's hands through her white locks, taking note that Trowa must have again scrunched them before they'd left the apartment.  
  
"Killashandra?" Corinne expected an answer.  
  
"She won't talk to you. Killa doesn't talk to anyone." Shingam's chin was high as he regarded Corinne with as much contempt as a five year old could.  
  
"Why not, Shingam?"  
  
"'Cause. You don't know how to listen." Suddenly, Shingam looked small again. To their surprise, he latched himself onto Heero's arm, wrapping both of his emaciated limbs around the much larger and toned one.  
  
"Shingam, what do you mean I don't know how to listen?" Corinne was trying to reach Shingam, but Quatre knew it was useless, the boy wouldn't answer anymore of her questions. He'd already said more than he'd wanted too.  
  
"Shingam--" Corinne started.  
  
"Don't." Quatre cut her off. Stopped her silent as he continued to stroke the hair of a girl that lived in her own little world.  
  
"Quatre I need to--"  
  
"You need to leave them alone. They've been through enough." To mark his point he tightened his hold about Killashandra's small body. Wrapping her in the warmth she and Shingam seemed so desperately to crave.  
  
This time, Lady Une stepped in. "Quatre, I understand you're desire to protect these children, it would be the same for me if Marieminna were in their places; but Quatre they do need help, you've said as much yourself. They also know more about the Tragona faction, and we need that knowledge to find those that escaped and put the ones we have behind bars. Quatre," something in her voice made him look up. "I wouldn't put a child through this if I had any other choice."  
  
The way she said it, the sincerity in her voice, swayed Quatre almost immediately. As much as he hated it, more than Shingam, Killashandra could be the one to solve the mystery and end it all, here and now. For her sake, he knew he needed to end this.  
  
Lifting her chin with his hand, he smiled lovingly at her when her eyes focused on his own.  
  
"Killa, I know you're scared and that you don't want to do this. I understand, really I do. I'm going to make this as easy for you as I can, ok? I want you to listen to Corinne's questions and then tell Shingam your answers, that way you can answer the questions, but you don't have to say a word. OK? Will you do that for me?"  
  
She didn't acknowledge, but as he moved his fingers from under her chin, he felt her give a sigh before returning her cheek to his chest. He looked pointedly at Corinne. "Try again."  
  
Nodding, she began.  
  
"Killashandra, I'm going to say a word, and you tell me the first thing that comes to mind when I say it. OK?"  
  
Shingam answered for her, like Quatre knew he would. "Ok."  
  
It threw Corinne off for a moment as she adjusted to the new situation.  
  
"Alright. Killashandra, what's the first thing you think about when I say the word, 'Black'?"  
  
Shingam again answered after a moment, "Space."  
  
Corinne nodded, "Good. Ok, what about, 'White'?"  
  
"Coat." Shingam's voice shook as he said it, and he seemed to hold on tighter to Heero's arm.  
  
"Coat? What do you mean by 'coat'?"  
  
"The white coats." Now Shingam looked entirely uncomfortable, and Quatre was sure he was about to refuse to answer any more questions again.  
  
"Shingam, I don't understand?"  
  
"You wouldn't." Quatre's voice startled even himself; he hadn't meant to say anything. A questioning look fell across his face, he looked down to the girl resting in his arms. Then suddenly he understood.  
  
"It's the bad men in the lab coats; isn't it Killa? The bad men that hurt Shingam; that hit him. That's what you mean, isn't it?"  
  
Killa didn't reply, she didn't have too, Shingam did the talking for her, "Yes, they--they were bad."  
  
Quatre nodded, then looked pointedly at Corinne. "Continue."  
  
"Quatre I need to ask Killashandra more about these lab coat wearing-- "  
  
"She won't tell you anymore, just continue."  
  
"Quatre--"  
  
"Continue!" His voice was cold, like new metal, unyielding and unforgiving. Corinne noted it.  
  
"Quatre, perhaps you're connection to the children is more of a hindrance here than a help. I think maybe you should wait outside and--"  
  
She stopped at the astonishing scene that unraveled before them all. Just as Corinne had suggested he leave, Killashandra had gripped his shirt tightly in both her small fists and buried her face in his silk covered chest. The statement was clear: Quatre stayed.  
  
With a sigh, Corinne decided to continue.  
  
"Killashandra, what do you think of when I say the word, 'Earth'?"  
  
"Quatre." Shingam's voice was strong and clear.  
  
"Ok, good. Now, what about when I say the word, 'Love'?"  
  
Shingam didn't answer. Corinne turned expectantly towards him but the boy just shrugged his shoulders, "She didn't say anything."  
  
"Did she hear my question?"  
  
Shingam nodded. "She doesn't have anything to say about it."  
  
Corinne nodded once to herself before scratching something down on her pad of paper. "Last one, Killashandra, then we'll do a different exercise. Tell me the first thing you think of when you hear the word, 'Water'."  
  
Later, the occupants of the room would remember that for a moment it was silent, a split second before it all began. The calm before the storm, before the empathic storm.  
  
Quatre didn't know if it was because he was holding Killashandra when it happened, or if it would have been the same had he been on the other side of the sun. A second of calm; a second filled with the deep intake of breath by a little girl who'd witnessed too much pain and hatred in her four years of life. A full second before it was confirmed that Killashandra could indeed make sound but simply refused too. A half millenium second where Quatre realized what was coming but didn't have time to prepare his own shields, only enough time to throw a quick and barley useful one around his half of the link; he'd later wonder how he even managed that.  
  
The scream from Killashandra's lungs pierced the air around them, and were it possible, seemed to shatter that very same air. She flung her small head back and screamed her pain, her rage, her every emotion, and with that scream, came the effects of a storm that all with empathic abilities feared on a subconscious level of terror.  
  
The empathic storm hit Quatre first, slamming into him and rendering his instinctive blocks to dust and whispered debree. He heard Corinne scream, but it didn't matter, nothing else mattered but the pain of having ones own mind ripped apart.  
  
It wasn't like at Jeovony's shop, when Killashandra had been frightened; this was the full blown extent of her trauma, her life's pain up to this point, rushing him all at once and mingling with his own; mixing to form one great and tragic pain.  
  
They were so similar, so much alike. One agony blended into another, overwhelming him.  
  
Vaguely he could sense the others closing in on him; desperate to find out what was going on. Quatre didn't know, but he knew one thing; he had to protect Killashandra. She from herself; her own memories, and his, which crossed the invisible barrier between one mind and the next and attacked her system as much as her's did his. They were linked in their agony; linked in their pain; linked in that both of them stretched what was left of their shields to protect those they loved; he to protect Trowa, she to protect Shingam.  
  
He wasn't sure when exactly it happened. One minute he was staring at the blank space that exists behind closed eyes, the next he was in a large room. Immediately he recognized the feeling that surrounded him. Like before, in his nightmares, he was bearing witness to the suffering of two terrified little children.  
  
A circular tank, about three feet in diameter stood in the middle of the room surrounded by consoles that flashed green, red and blue. The water was crystal clear at the bottom, but it was layered, clear at the bottom, an odd pinkish color at the top. A ladder led up to the opened top, about eight feet above the floor. He only had a minute to take it all in before the scene began to play out.  
  
In a flash of light the players were surrounding him. Three men in white lab coats stood next to a barely clothed Shingam, two of them held his arms in a bruising grip. In front of the boy was a man in a brown business suit; he looked to be in his early fifties with graying hair and an old fashioned dignity to him. Quatre shifted his eyes in time to see one more scientist, this one at the top of the ladder leading to the open mouth of the water filled tank; Killashandra held tightly in his clutches.  
  
Suddenly, there was sound, and Quatre could hear a soft whimpering; it took him a second to realize it was coming from Killashandra.  
  
"I hope you're paying attention!" Quatre turned swiftly, realizing the old man was speaking to Shingam. "You failed, you're worthless! You had a simply assignment and you couldn't even accomplish that! Now you watch, boy! Watch as you're other half dies before your eyes! You did this! You caused it! You didn't protect her, and now she's going to die, all because of you! You'll feel what death is like, that way you'll know what to expect if you don't complete you're mission again!"  
  
Mission? The boy looked no older than four. He was struggling, not quite pleading, but his eyes, Shingam's proud eyes, begged for mercy.  
  
Then the old man turned, turned with deliberate care, and pointed an accusing finger at Killashandra and said words that froze Quatre's heart. "Kill her."  
  
It happened so quickly then. The scientist shoved Killashandra into the tank and immediately closed the hatch, effectively sealing off the supply of oxygen to her soon starving lungs. He felt his mouth move, felt his lungs take in oxygen to scream in indignation, but no sound came out of his throat, and try as he might, Quatre couldn't move, only watch silently as Killashandra's instincts took over and she began to panic in the water.  
  
Small hands beat against plexi-glass and her bare feet kicked for all she was worth, begging purchase in the water to lift her body back up to the surface. It was obvious from her movements-Killashandra didn't know how to swim. There was panic on her face, real emotion, and for a moment, Quatre felt an odd sense of relief; that this child who showed no feelings at all could actually feel. It was short lived.  
  
"NO!!!" The scream came from his left and again Quatre turned to watch Shingam. The small boy fought for all he was worth; striking out and kick the men that held him. Quatre felt a great sense of pride and satisfaction that it took all three men to hold him back. Those feelings died away as he watched Shingam begin to weep. "NO!! Please let her out! Let her out! Killa!!! Killa!!!"  
  
The lack of a certain sound had Quatre franticly shifting his gaze once again to the tube of water that held Killashandra. She'd been in there for over a minute by his calculations, far too long for a child her size. The sound that was missing was the beating of Killa's small hands and feet against the plastic.  
  
Her eyes were glassy, like they were now, reflecting the world, but seeing nothing. He tried to scream, tried again to break free from his paralysis to reach her, but it was no use, try as he might, he couldn't move, he couldn't even scream his outrage.  
  
"Do you like that Shingami? Do you like what you're feeling? Do you like death?" The old man was taunting Shingam, roughly smacking him against the head with an open palm as he spoke. "Can you feel her dying? Can you feel her suffering because of you? She's dying because you didn't try hard enough, you gave up! She's dying because you killed her, because you didn't protect her! You didn't fight hard enough, and now she's paying for it! Do you feel her suffering, Shingami? Is she begging you to help her in your head?"  
  
They knew. The scientist knew that Shingam and Killa were linked, they were torturing Shingam by making him witness Killashandra's death. But--  
  
"Sir?"  
  
Quatre looked back at the tank, at the scientist that had spoken. He screamed louder than he'd ever screamed before in his life then, and heard it echoed by Shingam. Killa no longer floated between the line that separated clear water from pink, instead she lay at the bottom of the tank; and Quatre watched in horror as her body finally surcam to it's biological directive, gasped for breath, and inhaled only water into lungs designed for air. He watched in horror as the last remains of oxygen floated to the surface of the tank in bubbles before bursting at the surface, bursting in protest to the end of one child's life.  
  
The scream that tore from Shingam's throat was purely primal; like an animal losing it's mate. Tears in his eyes, Quatre could only watch as Shingam fought for all his small body was worth to get to the little girl he protected with is life.  
  
One of the men kicked the legs from under the boy and down he went, before trying to crawl away from them to Killa. Her name was a constant litany from his lips. And suddenly, Quatre understood what the old man had meant; Shingam really was feeling death, he was feeling Killashandra die.  
  
The kick was so sudden it caught even Quatre's grief stricken and horrified mind by surprise. The brightly polished boot came up under Shingam's chin, snapping his head back and knocking his teeth together in an audible click. The boy would have been propelled backwards if not for the three men holding him, and Quatre's silent screams were cut off in shock that Shingam's neck didn't snap with the force. Again, the old man spoke. "She's dead because of you. You killed her because you didn't do what you were told. You'll fight, that's why we invested so much into you! You'll fight, and you'll kill, and you'll do so when you're told! Fight or die! Die like the little bitch in there." He pointed towards the tank, and Quatre snarled in hatred. All around him he could feel Shingam's self hatred and agony. Killashandra was dead, and it was all his fault.  
  
"Now," the old man spoke again. "We cannot expect young Shingami to know what fighting is unless we show him, now can we?" Pointedly, he looked at the three men. "Beat him until he screams."  
  
They were on the child in a flash, as if they'd known the command was coming and they were but waiting for the signal. Fists and solid shoes connected with four year old flesh, and Shingam, whether from the mental agony of Killashandra's death or from shock and exhaustion, did not fight back. He was a bloody mess in seconds, and all Quatre could do was watch, tears blurring his vision as he screamed for them to stop.  
  
When it became apparent that Shingam was finally unconscious, the old man walked over to the tank and tapped on the glass in the most obscene imitation of a joke. "Well, we can't just give up an investment like this, now can we? Fish her out; then give her to Catalonia. I need to make sure that that woman understands that when I tell her to teach the boy to defend the girl, I mean it." With that he walked over to the door and exited, as if a meeting was over and it was time for lunch.  
  
In morbid shock, Quatre watched as the men continued to beat Shingam's unconscious body, while the scientist at the tank pressed a few buttons on a control panel. The grated floor of the tube rose, lifting Killashandra's body to the top of the tank, where the man undid the latch and pulled her lifeless body out by one hand and her hair.  
  
Hauling her down the steps, he dropped her on the floor, dried off his hands, and then reached for a machine Quatre hadn't seen before this moment; it was a machine he'd seen used before on Trowa, one used to start a stopped heart.  
  
In a mockery of the physician profession, the scientist smiled to himself and said, "Clear," before sending a high voltage pulse through Killashandra's tiny water soaked body. Quatre watched her body lifted off the ground by the released energy, and wept tears when the monitor remained a flat line. The scientist only laughed. "Guess she's gonna be stubborn this time."  
  
This time. This had happened before. And in the blink of an eye, Quatre knew this to be so. He saw in a single second the dozens of times this very act had been inflicted upon the children. It was punishment, it was torture, it was the very thing Shingam was so afraid would happen if he or Killa misbehaved. Killa thrown into a tank of water, Shingam forced to watch her slowly suffocate, then beaten unconscious, Killashandra roughly revived, only to start all over again when "They" were displeased. They killed Killashandra to torture Shingam into doing what they told him too. They brought her back to life to do it again and again.  
  
Quatre had the sense to wonder how this could be so; how a body as young as Killashandra's could possibly survive that type of strain. But he didn't have time to consider it as he heard the sizzle of electricity, and then the blessed beeping of Killashandra's heart again start pumping both blood and oxygen throughout her body. Quatre cried with relief.  
  
To his left he watched as the men finally stopped their barrage on Shingam's decimated body. The boy was a mass of bruises, broken bones, and blood-so much blood.  
  
And then, like a whispered prayer meant for God, Quatre her Shingam's voice in his head, heard it like the boy was speaking. "I feel you; do you live?"  
  
There was an answer back, but it wasn't spoken in words, instead it was an emotion, so strong and terror filled that Quatre cried out in agony to hear it. The answer was 'Yes,' but just barely.  
  
The side door opened again, and this time, Quatre screamed in outrage and hatred as Dorothy Catalonia entered the room, took one look at the children and merely shook her head.  
  
"I almost couldn't revive her. He left her in there longer than usual." The scientist stood, his voice gave no hint of caring either way.  
  
Dorothy nodded before moving to pick Killashandra up off the floor. She walked over to Shingam before shaking her head. "His bones are broken."  
  
"They'll heal." This from one of the men.  
  
"Of course they will," Dorothy snapped. "But I can't move him like this. Bring him back to their cell. I'll tend him there." With that she moved away from Shingam with a half flip of her long blonde hair. There wasn't an ounce of womanly care in her voice; it was like she didn't even recognize the children as human.  
  
Shingam was roughly thrown over the shoulder of one man, and hauled without mercy after Dorothy. A pool of blood marking where his body had been felled.  
  
Quatre blinked his eyes, and suddenly he was looking into green orbs of terror. Trowa stood over him, shaking him, begging him wake up. A sudden wave of panic swept over him, and Quatre recoiled in utter terror from Trowa's touch. His own fears about Trowa, mixed with the after shock of what he'd just witnessed sent him across the couch, clutching Killashandra too him, protecting her with his body, while his mouth screamed. "Stay away from us! I won't let you hurt her!"  
  
He saw the fear cross Trowa's face as he took an involuntary step away from Quatre's defensive form. He saw but could do nothing to stop himself-he didn't want to stop himself! He had to protect them, he finally understood what they'd been through, and he had to keep them safe.  
  
His eyes swung wildly around the room. Lady Une, Sally and Wufei stood against the back wall of the office, while Heero and Duo held a shaking Shingam between them; Corinne lay slumped in her chair, barely breathing. He didn't know how long it had taken, didn't know if it was seconds or minutes; he didn't care.  
  
"Shingam, come here!" His voice was commanding, but even he could hear the fear in it. He was terrified. Shingam was too far from him, if Heero or Duo tried to hurt the boy, he wouldn't have enough time to reach him before it began.  
  
Shingam didn't hesitate; he tried to bolt from the couch, but was stopped by Heero's strong arms about his waist. The boy screamed in pure rage and terror; he'd been effected by the storm only a little less than Killashandra.  
  
Quatre didn't register the words he then said until long after Shingam was housed in the safety of his arms, Heero's shock having allowed the boy to squirm free. "Let the boy go, Heero, or I swear by Allah I will kill everyone you hold dear." Later he would realize he'd been perfectly calm as he'd said it; perfectly calm, and completely serious.  
  
With Shingam in his arms, Quatre bolted off the couch and moved into a corner of the room, back himself in and sitting on the floor, one child, clutched in each arm. His words were sobbed, but no less meaningful because they carried behind them all the emotion his overtaxed system could provide.  
  
"It'll be ok. I'm going to protect you. No one will ever hurt you again. That's never going to happen again. You're safe, you're both safe. I'm never going to let anything happen to you again. I'll protect you. Shhhhhhh. I'll protect you. It'll be alright, I'll keep you safe. I'll keep you safe."  
  
It took the others nearly an hour to calm him down, another two before he'd let the children out of his arms, and another two day's before he let either Killashandra or Shingam out of his sight.  
  
Three day's later, Corinne woke up from the comma the empathic storm had put her in. By then, Quatre had explained what he'd learned from the link, what the children had been subjected too. The efforts to unlock the rest of the Tragona faction's files doubled. Kill men, destroy machines, rape women: products of war; torture children, unacceptable.  
  
For five nights, Quatre slept with the children, two precious bundles tucked under each arm; Trowa slept in a chair by the bed, praying that the worst was over. With four days left until Christmas, and Quatre still recoiling from his touch, he should have known better.  
  
What is Christmas all about but presents, and during such a blissful season, how could the Winner sisters fail to bestow upon their baby brother but the most memorable of gifts. 


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 18  
  
"It's not that.bad."  
  
"Are you kidding? That's the ugliest thing I've ever seen!"  
  
"Duo!"  
  
"No Quatre, he's right."  
  
"Trowa! How can you say that? Catherine must have looked really hard, and thought really hard, and tried really hard to find this-this-"  
  
"What is it anyway?"  
  
"It's.um."  
  
"See, even you don't know what it is!"  
  
"Well, that's not the important part! The important part is that Catherine got it for us for Christmas and we should be very thankful."  
  
"She'll probably be very thankful if we give it back to her and tell her to get her money back."  
  
"Trowa!"  
  
They were standing in the living room of Trowa and Quatre's apartment. Three days until Christmas and they'd decided to go as a group to town and have dinner. The final shift was over, and since Quatre had somehow managed to spill tea all down the front of his shirt, they'd decided to stop by the apartment so he could change.  
  
Presents had been coming into the base since early November and he and Trowa had already come home to find ones from Relena and Rashid. Off base delivery trucks sometimes dropped off their packages at the guard stations, but every now and then were allowed to set up elaborate or heavy gifts themselves. Because the apartments had no porches to leave packages on or a centralized storing area, security allowed the packages to be placed on prearranged drop points; his and Trowa's being the desk in their living room.  
  
So when they'd come home to find a very wide and thin crate, they'd both known it was a present of some kind. Duo had been overly excited to find out what was in it; so while Quatre had gone into the bedroom to change shirts, Trowa had opened the crate to discover Catherine had sent them a rather.individual piece of artwork.  
  
"Trowa! Your sister sent this too you, to us, for Christmas. I think it was very thoughtful of her."  
  
"I don't think she thought before she bought it."  
  
Quatre gasped at Trowa. "That's a terrible thing to say!"  
  
Trowa shook his head and propped the painting against the desk before moving to stand behind him.  
  
Ever since that terrible moment on the couch only six days before, Quatre had found himself shying away from Trowa's touch whenever his lover was near. He wanted to go to Trowa so badly, but every time he tried, every time he stood to sit next to Trowa on the couch or sit in his lap, all he could think was it was all a lie. Going to Trowa now, acting the part of a weak lover needing protection, it was false, and more than that, wrong. He couldn't sleep with Trowa under false pretenses again, the last time had almost killed him; and yet whenever he tried to talk to Trowa about what had happened, his partner would get a cold look on his face and tell him to forget about it, that it would never happen again. Nothing he did seemed to change Trowa's opinion on it, and his heart ached with the pain from it. For six days the link had remained void and silent, and every time Trowa moved to touch him, he couldn't help but shy away.  
  
He flinched ever so slightly as Trowa's strong and elegant hands rested on the upper part of his arms. He knew Trowa felt it, knew because even though the link was closed, he could still sense the vast amount of hurt that rolled off of Trowa. But it was getting common place, and Trowa simply gave his head a quick shake and pointed to the picture.  
  
"Tell me, what's that picture of?"  
  
Quatre knew a trick question when he heard it; he decided on honesty. "I have no idea. But that doesn't mean we shouldn't appreciate it."  
  
Trowa chuckled. "I appreciate it. But if I don't know what it is, I'm not going to hang it in our home."  
  
Quatre turned his head to regard his lover. "Trowa, we're hanging this picture up in the perfect place so that Catherine can see it first thing when she comes to visit."  
  
Grimacing, Trowa looked at him with pleading in his eyes; Quatre returned it with mischief. "Luv, you need to think like a diplomat. We'll hang the picture in the other spare room, and when Catherine comes to visit, we'll move it to the front." He smiled cheekily at Trowa's relief and shock. "Diplomat, Luv, diplomat."  
  
Suddenly, long fingers found his sides and Trowa tickled him mercilessly until he called out; and even when those offensive fingers were removed, he couldn't help but continue to giggle. He nuzzled under Trowa's chin, and sighed when Trowa kissed his forehead and wrapped his arms more securely about him.  
  
It was hard to explain. Simple things like this were true. He could be with Trowa like this; could cuddle with him at certain times and know it was real. But intimate moments, times when he and Trowa were alone, those were the times that felt false and empty. He wished he could explain it better. With Corinne still recovering from the empathic storm Killashandra had had, he found himself with nowhere to seek answers but his own mind.  
  
"I think I like it when you're diplomatic."  
  
Quatre giggled. "You like me when I'm being a tyrant too."  
  
Personal pain raced through Quatre at his careless words. He hadn't meant to say that, he'd only been trying to be cute, but it was too close to his real situation. Diplomatic was what he was with Trowa now, what was killing Trowa even as they stood there. Tyrannical was what he needed to be, not the abusive part of that, but just the powerful and controlling part.  
  
His laughter died away almost immediately, and at Trowa's concerned expression he had to duck and move away, out of arms that loved him, and yet now seemed to suffocate him all the same.  
  
"Quatre?" Trowa's voice was concerned.  
  
He turned to Duo and Heero who stood by the desk; ignoring Trowa. "Who's the other package from?"  
  
He could feel the tension mounting in the room; and obviously so could the others. Duo smiled and turned to look at the tag on the package; Heero's expression remained neutral and fixed on Quatre.  
  
"Say's here it's from.Oh hey! It's from Sekurra! Quatre you gotta open this before we go!"  
  
Duo picked up the package and gave it a toss, scaring Quatre half to death as he raced to catch it. He glared deathly at his friend before setting the package on the edge of the couch and tearing into it.  
  
Beyond the packing paper was a box, which opened up to reveal an envelope and another box, only this one made of plastic and metal. He opened the envelope as he gestured to Trowa to remove the box.  
  
Inside was a beautiful card. The handwriting was delicate and graceful, and very much Sekurra's. He read the card out loud.  
  
"'To Uncle Quatre and "Uncle" Trowa' she put your 'uncle' part in quotes," he told Trowa; his partner smiled. "'Merry Christmas! I know we don't celebrate the religious side of Christmas, but the gift part isn't bad.' Trowa, there's a little smiley face, see!" He beamed, showing his lover the three lines that made up the eyes and smile. Trowa chuckled at his excitement. "'I was going through some of the things up in the attic at the house and I found this box. When I opened it, imagine my surprise to find a case filled with old home movies from when we were kids! Not that we're old now or something. Anyway, there are about a hundred vid disks in there, all chalked full of' oh no, 'baby Quatre, toddler Quatre, little boy Quatre, and even a few I'm a spoiled brat Quatre's.' How could she do this too me?" Quatre sighed and hung his head in shame as the others laughed and Trowa opened the case to see that indeed it contained over a hundred vid disks, all baring labels as to the date and contents. Quatre shuddered in horror of what was to come; he continued. "'I know Trowa's gonna love this present, and just in case Uncle Quatre doesn't like it' listen to this, Trowa, she built in her own plea bargain, 'remind Trowa that one of those vid's has a,'" he laughed, "'naked Quatre running away from Cijen and a diaper.'"  
  
The others busted out laughing, even Heero. Quatre set the card on the table and covered his face with his hands. Trowa drew him into his chest, and silently, Quatre noted that he hadn't flinched all that much this time. Duo picked up the card.  
  
"'Anyway, thank you very much for the present, how did you know it was my turn to visit the holy land this year? Well I guess you would since you had to go two years before me. Thanks a lot though, I've taken time off and everything, it's going to be a great pilgrimage; I'm even bringing a friend of mine, his name's Lark, you know, like the bird, wish me luck!'" Quatre groaned and buried his face in Trowa's shirt; leave it to Sekurra to make a holy ritual into a chance to find a boyfriend.  
  
Duo continued. "'One more thing, just so you know, this isn't really your present. Actually I got you a vase to replace the one I broke at the Winter Gala. This is a present just to tide you over until it arrives. I hope you enjoy the vids. And thanks again for letting me use the De'Larrag estate for my party, I'm expecting it to be a huge bash! Talk to you soon! Your loving niece, Sekurra.' She's such a sweet kid."  
  
Heero snorted. "She's not that much younger than you."  
  
Mocking insult, Duo turned to lay into his partner. "You're always going to do that aren't you?! Well guess what Mister? You're not that much older than I am anyway, so quite trying to make it sound like you're some wise old man instead of just my big, strong, cuddly.hunky.hott.oh forget it, just take me now, hard and fast!" Duo dropped the card and jumped for Heero. Somehow the stoic pilot managed to catch Duo mid air before pulling him in tightly and kissing him passionately.  
  
Quatre laughed as he moved to examine the disks they'd been given. He sorted through a few before one of the titles caught his eye and had him laughing and groaning at the same time. Trowa came to look over his shoulder.  
  
Holding the disk up, Quatre showed him the title "Orla's Wedding." "You're not seeing this one." He smiled before moving his hand to put the disk back. However, in the blink of an eye, Trowa snatched the disk from his hand and moved towards the vid player.  
  
"No, Trowa, don't! It's the most embarrassing thing! I was four; that's embarrassing in and of itself, but that one's just really bad! Trowa!" But his partner ignored him as he pushed the disk into the player. "Trowa, I thought we had to go to dinner. Remember, dinner?"  
  
"No go Q. Blackmail material always proceeds food, just ask Heero." Duo said just as the door chimes rang.  
  
Mumbling to himself as he moved to the door he made sure Duo and Heero could hear his next comment. "I would but with his face in your neck I'm surprised he can hear anything."  
  
Heero's muffled reply sounded as he punched in the unlock code. "I heard that."  
  
Sally, Wufei, Corinne, and Lady Une stood there smiling; he could hear Marieminna talking to Shingam and Killa behind the adults. He quickly turned away from them, not even saying hello. "See, Trowa! Dinner, we have to go to dinner now!" Trowa ignored him and that had Quatre ready to beg. "Oh please, Trowa! I'll just die, I swear it, I'll just die if you play that thing, I mean it!"  
  
Sally heard the only slight untruth to that statement and looked around him to Trowa. "What's up, Trowa?"  
  
His partner's eyes twinkled in delight as he got the vid ready to play. "Quatre's niece sent us some home movies of Quatre. He doesn't want us to see him in his diapers."  
  
Duo interjected. "Hey now! Sekurra said Quatre wasn't exactly in his diapers, he was running away from them, buck naked!" He giggled as he took Heero's hand and moved them to a prime seat on the couch.  
  
"Is that so?" Quatre turned around in time to watch Lady Une push by him in an attempt to get a good seat for herself and Marieminna.  
  
"OH NO! We have dinner reservations! They're at Jake O'Shanasee's; remember, the best restaurant in town." Sally and Wufei brushed passed him, leaving Corinne to smile at him once before stepping past herself. "Is anyone listening to me?"  
  
"We are." He looked down to see Shingam and Killashandra holding hands, behind them stood Marieminna; Shingam had spoken.  
  
Sighing he knelt down and held open his arms; immediately three small bodies rushed him, and he laughed when he was almost pushed over. Though Killashandra had exhibited no further emotions since her terror induced screaming during her first session with Corinne, the little girl now clung to him every chance she got, this one being no exception.  
  
He kissed them all, before lifting Killa into his arms, and taking Shingam's hand; Marieminna held onto him by the pocket of his dress pants. "I guess we're ordering pizza."  
  
Marieminna smiled. "Yeah! I love pizza!"  
  
But Shingam made a sick face and Quatre chuckled, remembering his first experience with pizza. "Don't worry Shingam, they've got breadsticks and chicken as well, we'll get you that, ok?" The little boy smiled and nodded, bringing Quatre's hand to his face to nuzzle.  
  
For the last five days he'd slept with the children in their bed. Shingam had taken to him as much as Killashandra had; often seeking him out during the day. He and the children had taken to sitting on the couch together and watching old movies. Duo had introduced them to a long line of American cartoons by a company called Disney. So far, their favorite was Cinderella, though Shingam insisted on pointing out the inconsistencies between the cartoon and the story they'd read. Quatre only wished he'd shown them the movie, and not the book.  
  
As he approached the couch, Duo and Heero abandoned it to sit on the floor, snuggling together with one of the blankets. Wufei and Sally shared one of the plush chairs, and in fact, Sally rested squarely in Wufei's lap; Quatre wondered at their increasingly public displays of affection. He smiled; knowing it pleased Sally to no end.  
  
He dropped Marieminna off to sit in Lady Une's lap while he moved to the couch and handed the two children to Duo and Heero who quickly plopped one in each lap and snuggled them both under the blanket as well. That left Corinne on one side of the couch and he and Trowa on the other.  
  
Knowing it was pointless but worth a laugh anyway, he moved to stand in front of Trowa. Putting on his best puppy dog eyes, he stuck his lower lip out and brought his clasped hands up under his chin. "Oh please, Trowa, if you loved me, if you really loved me, you wouldn't do this. Take my money! Take my happiness! Take my cup and brush shaving set I know you like so much!" He had to laugh as Trowa rolled his eyes and Shingam giggled. "Hell, even take the picture my boyfriends sister just gave us!" He cracked up then, loosing his composure to laughter before he regained it; the others were howling. "But please, Trowa, if you love me, if you really love me, you won't play that vid! Take anything you want from me, but please leave me my dignity!"  
  
And in the most comical display ever, Trowa looked up to the ceiling as if to consider it, before shaking his head and pushing the play button. Hanging his head in shame he allowed Trowa to maneuver him back to the couch where they snuggled together as the vid started.  
  
The first part had Orla in her dressing room, the servants and his sisters helping her into her wedding dress. Trowa leaned over and whispered in his ear. "If it really bothers you, I'll turn it off."  
  
Quatre looked up at him and kissed the underside of his chin. "That's ok, I haven't seen these in a really long time, if I remember, they're actually pretty funny."  
  
Trowa, shifted them, pulling Quatre to lay against him before pulling one of his long legs out from under Quatre, and wrapping it about his waist. He smiled at Quatre's comfortable and yet questioning look. "In case you try to get away during the embarrassing parts."  
  
Quatre groaned. "They're all embarrassing parts, Trowa. That's the meaning of home vid's."  
  
Trowa smiled wistfully then. "It'll be nice to see what you looked like back then. I've only ever seen that picture on your desk of when you were six."  
  
Quatre smiled back. "It's too bad we don't have any home vid's of you as a child."  
  
Trowa lost his smile then. "No, it's not a bad thing. I wouldn't have had any happy memories to waste the film on."  
  
Burying his face in Trowa's neck, he laid a few kisses there before pulling him in for an impassioned kiss. "Then we'd better get a vid camera now to capture all of these happy moments, I wouldn't want you to forget them."  
  
"I could never forget them."  
  
Then Duo ruined the moment. "Will the two of you shut up, you're kissy face sounds are making the kids sick. Aren't they kids?" Duo looked down at the children for help. They looked at him blankly. Shrugging he said, "Well, guess not."  
  
They laughed, and just then, the humiliation began.  
  
Four year old Quatre stood in a beautifully tailored white suit. His blonde hair was gelled and combed back away from his face, revealing two shining bright blue eyes. But his eyes weren't shining with childlike wonder, but terror. Twenty year old Quatre nearly died with shame as the vid showed every four year olds worst nightmare.  
  
Hands covering his crotch, knees bent and shaking, four year old Quatre whined pitifully into the camera. "Liteeaaaaaaa, I hava go to the bathroom really, really, really badddddddd!!!!!!!"  
  
In both the vid and their apartment, the room erupted in laughter; Trowa held him tighter as Quatre tried to crawl into his shirt.  
  
The vid continued, this time Liteea's voice spoke from behind the camera. "Quatre, didn't I tell you to go to the bathroom before you got dressed?"  
  
The little boy nodded, still shaking. "I did! I did! But Nana gave me juice 'cause I was thirsty and now I really, really, really hava go!!"  
  
"Have To, not hava, and you'll just have to hold it, you're wearing a white suit."  
  
Little Quatre whined. "I can't wait that long, I, have, to, go! Really, really, really-"  
  
"Yes, I know, bad." She sighed. "Alanna, take this thing, and someone find Cijen!" The camera was passed to one of his other sisters while still another went to find Cijen. Absently, Quatre noted that his favorite sister was only thirteen at this time.  
  
Liteea knelt down before the barely holding on four year old. "Quatre, I can't help you if you don't move your hands." But little Quatre had something to say about that.  
  
"If I move my hands all the juice I drank is just gonna come right out! Liteeaaaaaa!!!"  
  
Quatre moaned into Trowa's chest as his lover shook with mirth.  
  
And then like a cool breeze in the desert, he heard the voice he'd grown to love over the years, the voice that had soothed his nightmares, sung him to sleep, and whispered secrets of favoritism too.  
  
"Liteea! For the love of Allah, let the poor thing go to the bathroom!" Cijen entered the frame, her beautiful brown and gold hair tied back with a satin ribbon in Orla's wedding party colors. The dress was simple, but for a girl just starting to grow into her body, it hung with good taste and class.  
  
"I'm trying, but he's being stubborn."  
  
"I am not! Cijen, if I move my hands I'm just gonna, gonna," the child blushed away from his sister before turning back and whispering loudly. "Pee my pants."  
  
But Cijen only smiled brightly as Liteea rolled her eyes, before nuzzling cheek. "Ok, we'd better get you to the bathroom really, really fast then, hu?"  
  
"That's what I've been trying to tell Liteea!"  
  
"Don't you worry, Quatre, we'll get you there in time. Don't let Liteea bother you, she was always running to the bathroom when she was pregnant."  
  
"Cijen!"  
  
But Cijen just giggled. "Come on, Quatre, follow me." And follow he did, knees locked together, hands never leaving their place to hold check to his over stuffed body, Quatre wobbled after Cijen pleading with her to slow down and then hurry up.  
  
The vid cut out just in time to hear Liteea call out to make sure he took off his pants before going so he wouldn't get anything on them. It cut to the prompt, revealing the end of that segment and waiting for advance from the controller.  
  
Quatre just about died, as the room erupted in laughter yet again. He had to admit it was funny, but there was just something wrong about laughing at the discomfort of a four year old. He turned accusingly to the others. "I'll have you know that I just barely made it to the bathroom!" That sent them roaring, and Heero and Wufei were held in check only by the people sitting on their laps.  
  
When the laughter died down a little, Marieminna spoke up. "Don't worry Quatre, that's happened to me before too." Marieminna smiled kindly to him from her mom's lap and Quatre smiled and thanked her.  
  
"Yeah Quatre," Duo commented. "That's happened to all of us; but man is it ever funny that we got to see your every humiliating detail!"  
  
Quatre buried his head away from Duo's comments. Trowa ran delicate fingers through his hair to sooth him, but Quatre only snuggled in close, avoiding eye contact when possible.  
  
He heard Duo put the vid on pause as he used the machine to call for pizza, making sure to include chicken and breadsticks for Shingam. And then the humiliation continued.  
  
As the wedding and the vid progressed, they were treated to little Quatre singing the ABC song, dancing with his teddy bear, and even the mad rush to get him a new pair of pants when he indeed managed to spill something on them right before the wedding. But the kicker came once the wedding began.  
  
As the only male, and a child too boot, Quatre was appointed the ring bearer. Beside him as he walked down the aisle was two year old Sekurra, her white dress almost bigger than she was; her title, flower girl. The problem started half way down the aisle.  
  
Rose petals and jasmine lay beautifully down the center of the aisle, but only half way. As the audience watched, Sekurra ran out of flowers and stopped right in the middle, dead in her tracks. At first little Quatre didn't notice and continued on his way, as Sekurra turned to look back behind her and then down at her empty basket. Finally, she did the only thing a two year old knows how to do, she cried.  
  
Sniffles caught Quatre's attention as he turned from his rehearsed procession to look back at the lagging Sekurra. Being careful not to drop the rings he held on a white silk pillow, he waked quickly back up the aisle to find out what was wrong with his friend and neice.  
  
The vid disk captured it all.  
  
"Sekurra, are you ok?"  
  
"I-I-I don' hav' an'more flowers." She punctuated the point by tipping over her basket.  
  
Looking dismayed, Quatre looked back up the aisle to the carpet of flower petals, and then the other direction where there were none. Deciding that couldn't happen, he looked pointedly at Sekurra and said in no uncertain terms. "Don't worry, I'll get you more." And then, like a little knight in white armor, one four year old boy bent down and started picking up the previously dropped petals.  
  
The guests as the wedding laughed as Quatre and Sekurra fisted handful after handful of flower petals and deposited them back into the basket. Quatre even went so far as to forgo a farther way handful for tearing off the petals of the aisle decorations.  
  
Finally, Cijen appeared, calling laughingly at the two of them. She met them half way as Quatre pulled Sekurra down the aisle in a mock bridal procession.  
  
"Cijen, Sekurra ran out of flowers!"  
  
Trying not to laugh, young Cijen tried her best to propel them along. "It's ok, just keep going."  
  
"But Orla will cry if it isn't perfect," wailed little Quatre.  
  
"Mommy!!!!!" And that was all Sekurra could stand. Dropping down in the middle of the aisle she started to sob in ernest. Which wasn't something her favorite uncle was prepared to allow.  
  
"Sekurra! Don't cry, look!" Thinking the rings were as good as the petals, he took the two gold bands and dropped them on the floor, much to Cijen's horror. "See! Now both of us don't have anything to throw. Don't cry." And the darling blonde swept in and hugged his little niece tightly, soothing her tears instantly.  
  
Cijen, for her part, was on her hands and knees searching for the two rolling rings. Finding them, she grabbed Quatre's pillow, slammed the rings on it, and handed it delicately back to Quatre with a stern, "Don't drop these!" And then scooted both children to the end of the aisle, to much cheering from the guest both at the chapel and in Quatre's apartment.  
  
Trowa leaned in to whisper in Quatre's ear. "And I thought I was the only clown in our relationship."  
  
Quatre chuckled. "I beat you too it by ten good years I think." Trowa laughed with him.  
  
For the remainder of the recorded ceremony everything went smoothly, Orla was wed to a wonderful man, and Sekurra even got her flower petals on the way out of the chapel.  
  
Quatre was having a grand time. It'd been so long since he'd seen himself happy with his sisters. He'd forgotten that until just recently, while not all had been overly sisterly towards him, none had hated him either. Mostly he was mesmerized by Cijen, his most beautiful and beloved sister. He watched her as she smiled beautifully for the camera, and later as she'd danced with a friend in the background of some camera shot. He always seemed to find her, in every picture; she'd always been the center of his world.  
  
But at the age of four, Quatre's life had been birthday parties and coloring crayons, he hardly remembered that in only a few short years, his young life had come crashing down before him. He hoped the vid didn't cover that far.  
  
He wasn't paying much attention, if he had, he might have noticed the warning signs on the vid, as it was, when his father appeared in the frame, he was completely taken off guard.  
  
Tall and proud, Raberba Winner commanded attention wherever he went; and as his picture and voice sounded, Quatre stiffened with attention.  
  
"There's that son of mine!"  
  
"FATHER!!!" A smaller version of himself ran adoringly up to the man, where he was swung up and into a strong pair of arms. Mr. Winner kissed his son soundly on the cheek before smiling to the camera.  
  
"You did very well today, Quatre. I wasn't sure Sekurra was going to make it." He laughed as Quatre got a haughty look on his face.  
  
"'Course she made it! She's my niece and I hava take care of her!"  
  
"And you did a fine job of it."  
  
"Yep, 'cause I'm the brother!"  
  
"Yes you are!" He laughed, swinging his son around a few times. "Can you keep a secret, Little Sultan?"  
  
Little Sultan. He'd forgotten about that old pet name. His father had once told him that he was descended from a long line of kings; and that in the old days he would have been the king of lands instead of the CEO of a company. He'd forgotten all about it.  
  
Little Quatre whispered quietly back. "Yep."  
  
Mr. Winner winked at the camera and the daughter holding it. "I happen to know that Orla's going to cut that cake you've been eyeing, very soon. If you promise not to say I told you so, we'll go stand in line and get a big piece; how's that sound?"  
  
Quatre's tiny face brightened instantly. "Yeah! We'll be really quiet, like thieves! Like the thief you told me about, the one in the story!"  
  
"Aladdin."  
  
"Yeah!"  
  
"You know, you'll have to marry the beautiful princess if you pretend to be Aladdin."  
  
A stricken expression fell over the child's face before he stuck his tongue out, "Yuck!"  
  
His father howled and little Quatre, not catching the joke but understand his father's good humor, giggled as well. "Come on Little Sultan, we'll steal the cake now, and get you married to the princess later."  
  
"OK!"  
  
And off they went, the camera shutting off just as Quatre looked over his father's shoulder and waved.  
  
The vid disk waited for its next prompt from the controller; none came.  
  
Quatre was held firmly against Trowa, his lover trying in vain to quiet the shaking that had overcome his over stressed body. His father's voice, his laughter. He'd forgotten so many things, good things; but with the good came the bad. Images of his father's beatings, of the hateful words that never stopped, even in his sleep. Good and bad things, his father hadn't been a bad man, not overall, only to Quatre.  
  
He didn't see the nod Corinne gave Trowa over his head.  
  
Trowa's voice was low and soothing, quiet as he rubbed soft circles against his back. "Are you ok?"  
  
Quatre didn't answer right away, he didn't know the answer. There were so many emotions right now, so many things he needed to think about. To appease them, he nodded his head slightly.  
  
"Quatre," this time, Corinne. "We can talk for a little while if you need to." He shook his head.  
  
"I'll be fine."  
  
Suddenly the com rang, startling them all in the silence. Needing to move and feeling an overwhelming need to get away, Quatre stood quickly and moved to accept the call.  
  
"Winner."  
  
"Captain Winner? Did you by some chance, order a pizza?"  
  
It was the guard station at the front gate. They were supposed to have called ahead and let them know an outside vender was coming, Duo must have forgotten. He turned around to confirm, and sure enough, Duo was smacking his forehead.  
  
"Yes, I'm sorry we forgot to radio ahead, I'll be down to pick it up immediately."  
  
"No problem, Sir. We'll hold it for you. I'll even try to keep the boys from eating it; but you better hurry, our shift doesn't end for another hour and we're due for some supper." Quatre recognized the identification number on the com unit as the voice belonging to one of his own men; he smiled at his joke.  
  
"Baker, if I find one piece missing, I'm sending Marieminna down to personally chew you out." He turned and winked at the little girl.  
  
"Is the Duchess there? Tell her security got her kite down from the west wing a little while ago and I'm holding it for her at gate ten."  
  
Quatre laughed at the soldiers' pet name for the red haired girl. "I'll tell her. Winner out."  
  
He turned back to his friends. "I'm gonna grab the food. Feel free to watch me humiliate myself more if you'd like."  
  
He got to the door panel before Trowa caught his arm. "Are you alright?"  
  
He nodded silently.  
  
The gentle caress of his face startled him, but for the first time in days he didn't flinch away. The kiss that followed grounded him. "I'll go with you."  
  
Quatre shook his head. "No, stay. I'm just going to grab the food and come back; fifteen minutes tops." But as he made to leave, Trowa wouldn't let him go. "Trowa?"  
  
"I thought you promised to tell me when things were bothering you from now on." It was a gentle reminder, not a hurtful one, and Quatre sighed before nodding.  
  
"I don't really know how I feel right now. It's confusing. I need just a few moments to figure it all out. Let me grab the food, and when I get back, I'll probably have figured it all out, ok?"  
  
But Trowa wasn't convinced. "So you'll talk to me when you get back?"  
  
Quatre smiled and kissed him soundly. "Promise."  
  
Trowa finally nodded, touching their foreheads together before kissing Quatre once more and tapping him on the butt. "Hurry back, I'm hungry."  
  
Quatre coyly looked over his shoulder. "For the pizza or me?"  
  
"While company's here, pizza."  
  
"And when company's gone?"  
  
"Hurry back and find out."  
  
Quatre laughed, he wasn't sure where he stood with Trowa now on a physical level, but he'd always love this wonderful man, always.  
  
"Quatre?" Marieminna appeared behind Trowa's leg. "Can I come with you? I'll help carry the food, and we can stop and get my kite on the way. I don't like going to gate ten by myself, it's down the scary tunnel."  
  
He smiled and took her hand. "No problem, let's go!" And with that they left to collect the night's dinner. 


	20. Chapter 20

* * *  
  
"Is he alright?"  
  
Corinne sighed as she stretched her arm along the back of the couch. "He's correct. Right now he's confused, maybe even a little angry; but he's just not quiet sure right now. It's hard for any abused child to come face to face with their abusers; especially if that abuser is a parent. Quatre's case is more complicated in the fact that his father's abuse was highly focused; most parents abuse their children on general reasons, not Mr. Winner. He abused Quatre only as it pertained to his homosexuality, no other reason, not disobedience, or anything else. That makes it all the more confusing because Quatre has so many good memories of times that didn't involve his sexual preferences. It's easy for him to say he hates his father, easy to say the words, but not necessarily to feel them. He can't rationalize his father as a bad man; wrong and hurtful sometimes, yes, but overall, he just can't do it."  
  
"Yeah but something tells me that if that bastard had laid one finger on any of Quatre's sisters, Quatre would have been the one to kill him." Duo snuggled Shingam more tightly against him.  
  
Corinne nodded. "Quatre has the distinct problem of putting others before himself, as we all know. I think you're right; if Mr. Winner had hurt his daughters like he hurt Quatre, Quatre would not have stood for it. But the fact of the matter is he didn't, and that leaves Quatre with the unfortunate problem of thinking that he must have done something to cause the abuse."  
  
"For his sake, I'm glad he's already dead." The room fell deathly silent at Trowa's calm statement. There was no room for argument and all understood, had Mr. Winner still breathed, Trowa would have been the one to silence him. No one hurt his Quatre.  
  
Lady Une cleared her throat. "Perhaps we should continue the vids. Quatre did give us the ok, and I believe this line of questioning is better left to when Quatre can comment on his own behalf."  
  
The room reluctantly nodded, and Sally moved to the case and removed some of the vids. Something odd caught her attention as she lifted a stack out.  
  
"There's a pocket in here.one of the vids fell into it. That's strange, this one isn't marked."  
  
Duo spoke from his seat. "It's the mystery vid. Plug it in and we'll take a look." He smiled to lighten the mood. "I wonder if we'll get baby Quatre, toddler Quatre, or just the brat Quatre?"  
  
"Killa want's to see baby Quatre." Shingam smiled, shifting to get comfortable in Duo's lap.  
  
"Ok, it's in." Sally moved back to her place, and Wufei pulled her in close, her head resting on his shoulder, his hands rubbing lightly at her hip and tummy.  
  
Knowing it was best to push the uncomfortable-ness aside, Trowa looked down at Heero and gave him a nod.  
  
The Japanese boy lifted the remote and then suddenly stopped, staring at it in shock. Wufei noticed.  
  
"What is it, Yuy?"  
  
Heero glanced at him before looking back at the remote. He turned to Duo. "When you shifted on the other disk, what code did it display?"  
  
Duo looked confused before answer. "It said 'Orla's Wedding' and then listed the takes; just like all vids do. Why?"  
  
"You're sure?"  
  
"Yeah, why, what's up?"  
  
"Heero, what's wrong?" Trowa's voice carried over and Heero looked up to him with a perplexed expression.  
  
"The remote is asking for a prompt. This vid's password coded."  
  
Trowa looked at him in shock. Home vids weren't usually password coded. What would be the point? They're not taken out enough to warrant a code. So why-  
  
"May I see it, Heero?" Shingam's small hands reached from Duo's lap to take the hand held remote control. The little boy looked at it for a moment before surprising them all. "It's a standard pass code, probably something familiar to the user. There are only thirty-three buttons on the remote, but the prompt is only asking for a sequence of five clicks. There are no letters, only numbers on this display so that rules out words unless they're coordinated to the letters, which is most likely. It's probably a looping sequence, like one is 'a' two is 'b' three is 'c' and so on, looping at 'k' to be one again pressed twice instead of once. Since it's only prompting for five letters, and it's obvious that this package was sent to Quatre, the code is probably his name, something the receiver would easily get and remember." He handed the remote back to a stunned Heero. "Try it, try Quatre's name; I bet it works."  
  
Stunned into silence, the room watched as Heero did as instructed, working the ten numbers into a code for "Quatre." At the end, he looked up to catch Trowa's eye, asking for permission to enter the prompt.  
  
What was going on? Trowa had no idea. Wanting to get to the bottom of this before Quatre returned, he nodded again for Heero to enter the prompt.  
  
Sudden terror filled screams filled the room, and they watched in horror as the image of Quatre as a little boy, no more than eight, was held struggling atop a table; his body naked, with a nearly naked man over the top of him; holding him down by obviously bruised wrists. Little Quatre was screaming, begging for the older man in his late thirties to let him go.  
  
The dialogue that came forward brought a strangled sob from Corinne's lips as her hand moved to cover her mouth in shock.  
  
The unknown man was leaning over the small blonde boy, his face mere inches from Quatre's. Every time Quatre turned his face, the man above him followed, never breaking eye contact with the boy.  
  
"Do you like this, Quatre? Do you?" Below him, the boy struggled, calling out over and over again for the man to stop. "You're a bad boy, Quatre! A bad boy!"  
  
Swinging his head from side to side Quatre cried out. "I'm not a bad boy! I'm not bad!"  
  
"Yes you are! Yes you are a bad boy, Quatre! And this is what will happen to you! This is what will happen!" Rough hands forced Quatre's together over his head. And then Trowa saw his childhood happen all over again.  
  
A large rough hand slapped Quatre before groping the child's body; nothing was sacred. The man's large hand disappeared under Quatre's back only to lift the child's hips off the table. Hands pushed Quatre's knees to his chest, exposing his naked bottom.  
  
"This is what happens to disgraceful and disgusting bad boys like you, Quatre! Terrible men will hurt you! Shove their penis' into you and make you scream, make you bleed! You won't be able to sit down for weeks! This is what happens to bad boys! You're a bad boy, Quatre! A bad boy! Allah hate's bad boy's! And when those men force their way inside you, ripping you apart, their release will be fast and will burn you, like acid and scorpions! It'll eat the insides of you! It'll eat you from the inside out! Because that is what Allah does to bad boy's, bad boys that look at other boys! You're a bad boy, Quatre, and Allah will punish you and your sisters will hate you, and no one will love you!"  
  
Screaming for all his small and tortured body was worth, Quatre struggled in the man's grasp. "I'M NOT A BAD BOY!!! I'M NOT A BAD BOY!!! I'M NOT A BAD BOY!!!" Over and over, his words echoed; over and over it did no good.  
  
"Is this what you want, Quatre? Boy's that look at other boys, this is what happens to them! Boy's that have sex with other boys, bad boy's like you, they get other boy's dirty parts shoved into their butt's! Do you want that, Quatre? Do you?! Do you want to be a bad boy?"  
  
They all watched it happen, watched, Quatre's face crumple and his head fall to the side. His eyes were lifeless, but they looked towards the left of the camera. When he spoke, it was with the harshest sobs and greatest pleading any of them had ever heard. Hands released from their captivity, the small boy reached out from his reclined position to the figure to the left of the camera.  
  
"Father.help me.please help me. I'm not a bad boy.Father.please.help me Father."  
  
The muffled response sounded just before the vid cut out to black.  
  
"I am helping you, my son."  
  
The two seconds of silence that followed were shattered by Corinne.  
  
"I'll kill that bastard, I swear by the gods I will!"  
  
Trowa sat in stunned silence as the others shouted their agreements. What had just happened? What had he just seen? Quatre, his Quatre, brutalized by some man and his own father. Quatre. He'd never read anything in the journals that alluded to something like this, and yet the boy in the vid had to have been above the age when Quatre had begun to keep his journals. Oh God, Quatre!  
  
"Trowa!"  
  
He turned at his name, though he heard it only through the fog, Corinne was shaking angrily on the other side of the couch, tears traced down her face. He felt numb.  
  
"Trowa, has Quatre ever told you about what you just saw? Has he ever mentioned it?" Her voice was desperate, colored with rage and unchecked fear.  
  
Dumbly, he shook his head.  
  
She swore violently. Standing she began to pace the room.  
  
Quatre hadn't ever said anything about this. He'd told him that his father had beaten him, yes, verbally abused him, certainly, but this, molested him, Quatre hadn't said anything, he would have remembered. But why? Why hadn't Quatre told him? Why keep this a secret and yet tell him everything else? Why?  
  
"Trowa." He looked up to find Corinne on her knees before him. "Trowa, I can sense what you're thinking. I don't think Quatre didn't tell you on purpose, in fact I'm positive of it."  
  
Trowa cut her off. "I would have remembered, I would never have forgotten-"  
  
"No Trowa, that isn't what I mean." She paused, and Trowa could tell it was to collect herself so she could remain in control of her rage. "What you just saw was a very old form of therapy." She scoffed at the word 'therapy.' "It's called Terror Therapy, and it was outlawed over two hundred years ago. The premise behind the therapy is to instill so much terror into an individual about something, that they won't do it, or say it, or whatever!" Throwing her hands up, Corinne resumed her pacing.  
  
"They outlawed it because they found it did more damage than good to the patients. Two hundred years ago, they found that using the therapy was one of the leading causes of multiple personality disorder. All this time they'd been trying to cure people, and all they were doing was making them worse.  
  
"Most people-especially young patients-don't ever remember even going through the therapy. It's such a traumatic experience, they block it from their minds. Usually some word or phrase from the session kicks out a terror response, stopping the patient from doing or saying, or whatever they weren't supposed to do.  
  
"God, but with Quatre, with an empath, it must have been.it must have." She drifted off for a moment, shuddering at the thought of the pain Quatre must have been through. She took a deep breath and continued. "Empaths are highly susceptible to Terror Therapy. Their natural tendency to internalize all emotions makes them absorb the fear and anger coming from the psychiatrists. They soak it up and store it, holding those emotions and the answering terror until released at some key word or action."  
  
She growled in rage. "You probably didn't notice, but that man standing over Quatre was one of the most famous psychiatrists in the universe about ten years ago. For all his wonderful ideas he held the worst of all, that Terror Therapy was still a viable treatment, eventually he was laughed out of the public eye, but it seems, not before he got to Quatre." She said the last part as she sagged against the wall. "Quatre most likely doesn't remember any of it. Obviously the trigger didn't work, because it was designed to keep Quatre away from men, and since he's sleeping with Trowa, and Koeran before that, something went wrong." Corinne closed her eyes, praying silently for strength.  
  
Trowa's voice was quiet as he spoke. "What do you mean, 'wrong'?"  
  
Corinne sighed. "The reason Terror Therapy doesn't work on empaths is because it takes a lot of negative emotions and a lot of just plain terror before it works. We're not talking month's or years, this isn't about time, but strength of emotion. The man dealing with Quatre was an empath, he was more likely than not using his abilities to pump Quatre full of pain and fear to help fuel the terror experience. If everything had worked out alright, Quatre would have been too subconsciously overwhelmed to have perused any kind of relationship with a man. Further more, if he had, the backlash from the therapy would have been like opening a flood gate, like him suddenly remembering all the terror all at once. It would have caused his mind to splinter, with all the years behind it that he's obviously had between his age there-which was about eight-and his sexual peek, and now, we'd be talking about an empathic storm on a caliber I've never experienced. Quatre is the strongest empath I've ever met, if the trigger were ever to be released.my god he'd kill himself and every sensitive in a hundred, maybe two hundred mile radius." She shook her head, dropping it too her chest at the enormity of it all.  
  
Ever practical, Lady Une spoke. "This trigger word or action is the only thing keeping Quatre from an empathic storm like you speak of?" Corinne nodded. "Then we need to find out what that trigger is, before he hurts himself or others."  
  
As a side thought, Trowa recalled that Marieminna was a sensitive, and this very minute with Quatre.  
  
But Corinne was shaking her head. "It could be anything, anything at all! I'll have to take him under, and I probably won't even be able to do it myself. I'll have to call in three or four other empaths to help me, and Quatre's so guarded, we may very well have to mind rape him before we can even get into his thoughts. That fact could very well cause the storm we're worried about. I just don't know!" Brutally she ran her hands though her tangled hair.  
  
From the floor, a quiet voice floated. "Killa does."  
  
As a group they turned to look at the small blond girl resting in the arms of one of the worlds most deadly assassins, and then towards Shingam, who might some day usurp that title.  
  
Trowa broke the silence. "What does Killa know, Shingam?"  
  
"The word you want to know. It's obvious, even I figured it out."  
  
Now wasn't the time for amazement. "What is it, Shingam?" His voice shook as he asked, afraid to know the answer.  
  
Shingam shrugged his shoulders. "Bad boy. Quatre said it the whole time. Didn't you hear him?"  
  
Of course they had. They'd watched the child Quatre scream and cry it for almost two minutes, a constant litany until the end.  
  
Suddenly Corinne nodded. "Yes! Yes that's probably right!! Quatre didn't associate anything that was happening as an action he was suppose to avoid, more like he was getting punished, and not because he was looking at another male, but because he was-"  
  
"A bad boy." Trowa finished for her. She nodded.  
  
Lady asked the next needed question. "Can you help him, Corinne?"  
  
She nodded slowly. "Yes. I'll need to explain to Quatre what happened without him seeing the footage. My guess is that in a proper house hold like the one Quatre grew up in, phrases that consisted of, 'bad boy' only, were never heard, that's probably the only reason half the empaths in the world are still breathing. He can't hear those two words together, if he does.let's just say he can't. I'll have to work through the emotions with him, and it'll take some time, but I think so. I think so."  
  
Lady nodded solemnly. "Good. See that it's one of your first priorities. We can't allow-"  
  
Suddenly the vid switched on again. Later they'd realize the vid disk was on a timer, now they watched in absolute silence as one more terror from Quatre's past was revealed in living color.  
  
It was a perfect picture, one of twenty-one year old Cijen, a buster rifle against her shoulder, pointed towards two security guards bearing the WEI emblem on their uniforms.  
  
"In the absence of my Father, the bastard, the oldest daughter in the manor holds power, seeing as how I'm older than Seeafa by three years, I suggest you open this door right now, do you understand?" There was deadly calm in her demeanor, but her voice shook with rage and fear.  
  
The guard must have heard it. "Mistress Cijen, on orders of your father no one is permitted to see Master Quatre."  
  
Sure hands released the safety on the rifle and Cijen moved it so it was pointing right between the guard's eyes. "Then consider yourselves fired and no longer held accountable for what my father's wishes are. Move away from the door, or I swear by Allah I'll kick you're lifeless bodies out of the way."  
  
From behind the camera a voice spoke softly and with much fear. "Cijen, maybe-"  
  
"Shut up, Seeafa. Now you," she pointed towards the guard. "Move." With a final nod the guards stepped away.  
  
The guard that had not previously spoken did. "Mistress, your brother is.take care of him." The man handed the proud woman the door's key and then dragged his fellow guard away.  
  
Swiftly, Cijen turned towards the door, hurrying to unlock it. Her words froze Trowa's heart.  
  
"Hold on, Quatre! Hold on, Little Brother! I'm here, Little Brother, I'm here!" The key in the door, the lock released and Cijen Winner, followed by her younger sister and the camera, entered the dark room.  
  
Cijen's voice. "Quatre? Quatre where are you? Can you hear me? Quatre?!" She was starting to panic, it was easy to hear the tremor in her voice as she cried out for her favorite sibling. "Quatre, answer me!"  
  
But no sound came. They watched as Cijen tried in vain to light the room by command before turning towards the camera, the light from the hallway barely illuminating her face. "Seeafa, use the light on the camera."  
  
An agreement and then the dark room was flooded with artificial light.  
  
Trowa heard himself gasp along with the other occupants in the apartment, and the young women of over eight years ago.  
  
"QUATRE!!!" For a moment all they saw was Cijen's back as she raced across the screen to kneel beside something on the floor. It took them a second to recognize the thing was actually a body, Quatre's twelve year old, broken and bleeding body.  
  
He felt his heart stop in his chest. He'd read Quatre's journals, he knew what was happening, and even what would happen. He'd known that it was Cijen and Seeafa that had rescued Quatre from that horrible room, and worse the hands of his father. But to see it. To see his lover as a child, arms and legs broken, face unrecognizable from the bruises and blood; he'd never felt pain like this before, never, not even when he'd been the one beaten.  
  
And Cijen. He watched her cradle the broken body of her beloved brother to her chest, calling out his name and begging him to hold on. There was so much love and fear in those eyes, such a fierce protectiveness as she turned to the camera and screamed at Seeafa to call Iria. Iria the doctor; the prodigal sister. Quatre had once confessed that he believed her to have been his father's favorite.  
  
But Cijen. The woman that had made his partners life a living hell for the past year. The one betrayal that had begun this whole mess, and brought his lover to his knees in suffering. She knelt there, tearing off her jacket to lay it over Quatre's broken body, and leaning over him, begging with her tear soaked voice for him to stay with her, that she was there, that he was safe. Such love and fierce protectiveness, like a lioness caring for her cub. And suddenly Trowa understood.  
  
He saw the broken body of Quatre, and realized immediately why Cijen had done and said all that she had all those months ago. The little blonde was so delicate, so selfless, craving love and comfort but asking for nothing. Cijen had acted much like Catherine had when he'd lost his memory; striking out at the person who had tried to take him from her. With Catherine, Quatre had been that person; with Cijen it had been him. And hadn't Catherine told him Quatre wasn't worthy of him, weren't those the same words Sekurra had said Cijen had cried as she's told her nieces and nephews the sins of herself and fellow sisters? Yes. Cijen had hurt Quatre, tried to come between himself and his partner, but as was not before, it was obvious to Trowa, she'd done it out of overpowering love for her little brother.  
  
Quatre.  
  
"Cijen." The voice of Seeafa was small and weak, the camera caught her lowered head and bent posture. "Iria-Iria says-says she won't come."  
  
There was silence for a moment as even Cijen's tears stopped. "What do you mean she won't come?"  
  
Seeafa swallowed. "She-she says she won't stand against Father. Maybe- maybe she's right, Cijen?" The last part was said looking away from the bloodied body of her younger brother.  
  
If Trowa had doubted Cijen's love for Quatre before, he saw all he needed to know then.  
  
Soft hands continued to run over Quatre's matted hair, her body was gentle, loving towards the precious bundle of life she held in her hands. Her eyes however, as she turned them towards Seeafa and the camera, were filled with as much hate as a human could possibly possess without going mad.  
  
"Then go, Seeafa, go to your big sister and cry about how Cijen made you do it, made you go against Father. You go knowing your brother will think that you helped him as best you could, because that is what I will tell him. Because I'll die before he ever learns that he was betrayed by his own sisters, I'll die before he knows of your cowardliness; because that would kill him more than Father's fists ever could. But you go Seeafa, you leave this place and you tell Iria, that one day Quatre will be Lord over us all, and when that time comes, you, and the rest of your cowardly sisters, will feel his pain, know his suffering. Allah will make it so; an eye for an eye."  
  
Leaning over, Cijen placed a kiss on Quatre's forehead as Seeafa ran out of the room. The young woman whispered reassuringly to Quatre, telling him over and over, to hold on, she wasn't going to let anything happen to him.  
  
"Don't worry, Little Brother. I'm here now, and everything is going to be fine. No one will ever hurt you again, I swear it, by Allah and all the prophets, he will never touch you again. Stay with me, Little Quatre. Stay with your most beloved sister, stay with me, Little Brother. I'll take care of you, I'll always take care of you. My little Quatre, my little brother. I'll make it stop, I promise I'll make it stop."  
  
From her back pocket she withdrew a phone, and a broken conversation was held between herself and some doctor that obviously knew of Quatre's frequent beatings at his father's hand. The camera then cut out, the last image of Cijen's weeping form, leaning over her broken brother, kissing his forehead and begging him to stay with her.  
  
There weren't words or time before the next picture on the disk began. Cijen's hateful face stared darkly at the camera. This one, an obviously planned speech. Her threat answered so many questions.  
  
"That was the last time, Father. I'm sending this to you so you can witness one last time exactly what you've done to your son. Did you see his face?! Did you?! His face may never look the same, never! My brother loves with a heart you couldn't possibly understand! He loves with his whole self, and even as he lay broken and dying in my arms he asked me not to damn you, that you'd only been trying to help him. But this ends now, Father!  
  
"I've made copies of this vid, and given them to trust worthy friends; people not affected by the number of credits you flash in front of their eyes, because I've flashed more! If you ever, and I mean ever, lay another hand on Quatre, hurt him in anyway, I'll send the unedited version of this disk to every major news channel on both the colonies and Earth. The colonies may not be able to communicate, but they all do business with the great Raberba Winner. How do you think the masses will feel knowing the great pacifist that stood beside Heero Yuy, is nothing but a child abuser?! Do you think you're money will protect you? Think again!  
  
"You'll leave Quatre alone from this day forward, or I swear by Allah I'll destroy you! Everything you've built, everything you've created, I'll bring it all crashing down around you like the castle of cards that it is! Lay a finger on him, and I'll know, don't think that I won't. You may have sent me away so you could better 'manage' Quatre, but I know what you do. You're not the only one with money, Daddy; and you're not the only one with spies!  
  
"The time will come soon when I'll send for Quatre. You're going to let him go; you're going to let him come to me. I'll have people meet Quatre, people that will take care of him, treat him like a human being; people that will accept him as the loving boy that he is, nothing more and nothing less. Don't you even dare consider trying to stop him from coming when I send for him! If you even try, I'll make you regret it for the rest of you sick, pathetic life!  
  
"So sit in your castle in the sky, Father. You sit up there and remember all that you've done, all the sins you committed against your own son. Sit there and shake in fear of your once thought weak son. Because one day Quatre will return, and when he does, when he's strong enough, he'll take all that is yours and make it his own; and on your death bed, he'll shed no tears, but laugh in joy that Allah is merciful and great. He'll laugh, not cry, knowing that you will suffer for all eternity in the bowels of Hell for the sins you've committed against your only son.  
  
"You've damned yourself to Hell, and I wish I could be there when Quatreen Winner's spirit travels to torture the soul of the man she died to make happy.  
  
"Damn you, Father! And know this, you've lost both a son and a daughter this day; the daughter you can replace, but the son will strike you dead before giving you the chance; I'll see to that personally. All my precious love, Father. Cijen Winner, out!"  
  
It was because of her! Cijen had blackmailed her father into allow Quatre to leave L-4. She'd arranged for him to be ambushed by the Maguanacs, and admitted into their teachings. Her threats were the reason Quatre's father never made any real effort to bring Quatre home all those years ago. And most importantly, it was her promise of destruction that had prevented Quatre from being further brutalized. All these things. Cijen had silently been protecting her little brother for years; keeping him safe and far from those that would hurt him. God, she may have hurt his lover beyond all repair, but he found himself respecting her for it, for doing everything she possibly could to protect her brother, even risking losing him forever, just to keep him safe.  
  
"Trowa?" He looked down to see Duo holding the remote; it had only been ten minutes since Quatre had left. "The selector says there's one more scene that was added three years later, this one isn't password protected. Should we open it?"  
  
Looking towards the vid screen, he nodded.  
  
Duo pushed play.  
  
"Why not!"  
  
"I already told you, it's too dangerous. You don't know the kind of people that will be there."  
  
"It's not as if I'm going by myself, you'll be there with me, how bad could that be?"  
  
"Quatre, I said no."  
  
The camera must have been bumped and activated because it sat at an odd angle. Duo corrected for the skewed picture by use of the remote.  
  
Quatre, this time only slightly younger than the first time he'd ever seen him, Trowa guessed he was about fifteen, stood in loose Arabic pants and a light blue, opened vest. Standing in front of him was a gorgeous and imposing figure. Nearly two heads taller than Quatre, the young man appeared to be a few years older as well. He was thin, long arms and legs, with a tangle of long reddish brown hair held by a leather tie in an intricate design. The young man was dressed much like Quatre and his handsome face held a stern expression as he spoke to an upset Quatre.  
  
"Koeran, it's just a party. I thought you'd want to go with me. You're always saying you want us to go places together."  
  
So this was Koeran. The boy that had had Quatre first. Trowa held the jealousy that immediately filtered through him in check. He studied the young man instead, realizing that he wasn't that much younger than they were now.  
  
Blue eyes looked back from dark Arabian skin, and toned muscles accentuated his thin body. His face was hard now, but Trowa could easily see the gentleness inherent there. His presence was massive, but he didn't seem to dominate the space around him, only fill it, not asking for attention like some did. Proud, Trowa noticed that right away, this boy was proud of who he was, and obviously by the way he was looking at Quatre, proud of the blonde boy before him as well.  
  
They stood together with an easy grace. They may have been having an argument, but there was no fear there. They weren't angry with each other, not really, they were simply talking things out, settling something that the camera had walked right in the middle of.  
  
"I do want us to go places together, you know I do." Trowa noted that Koeran's voice, while soft, also required someone to listen when he spoke. "I know it's hard for you to be seen with me sometimes, but you're not going to Rattna's party."  
  
Then Trowa remembered. Rashid had told him almost exactly what Koeran had just said. Quatre had been so ashamed of his new feelings for Koeran that he'd shied away from public affection. Quatre had later confessed that he'd been constantly afraid that his father would somehow learn of his relationship with the exotic Arabian and call Quatre back, or worse, make something happen to Quatre's first love.  
  
"Koeran, please, I'll stay with you the whole time. I promise I won't wonder off, I swear it."  
  
"It's not you wondering off that I'm worried about. Quatre, Rattna throws the wildest parties in the camp, anything could happen at one of them. In case you haven't noticed, there isn't a man in this camp that wouldn't love a chance to spend one night with you."  
  
Quatre stubbornly crossed his arms. "So are you jealous or just nervous I'll find someone else?"  
  
Trowa was startled by the sound of growling moments before he realized it was coming from Koeran. "Neither! You're mine, and I trust you. But you are not going to that party-"  
  
"But Koeran-"  
  
"Enough! It's final!"  
  
In shock, they watched as Quatre's body lost all of its fight. There was a sadness and a touch of anger to his posture, but for the most part it was a simple expression of resignation, as if he'd conceded.  
  
"Fine."  
  
It was like watching himself and Quatre now. Koeran had used such a commanding tone for his final line, and Quatre had bent, submitted, so easily.  
  
But like a mask lifting, regret showed all across Koeran's face and body. Slowly he stepped towards Quatre and reached for him.  
  
Half-heartedly, Quatre shrugged away from his hands.  
  
"Don't."  
  
"Quatre, I wish I could let you go to that party. I wish I could. But it isn't safe for you there. I could only watch out for you if you stood right by my side the entire night, and I don't want you to go if you can't have fun."  
  
"I know."  
  
But Koeran wasn't convinced. Trowa watched with terribly mixed emotions as Koeran pulled Quatre into his chest and stroked his hair, lifting the blonde's chin to meet his eye.  
  
"I hate not giving you what you want."  
  
Quatre sighed, kissing Koeran's palm and nuzzling his chest with his cheek.  
  
"I know, I'm just disappointed."  
  
"I'll make it up to you. We'll stay in. I'll cook you a fancy dinner, you can show me those new strings on that blasted instrument, and then I'll teach you about the thrust engines you've been after me about. How's that sound?"  
  
Quatre smiled. "It sounds nice, but you don't have to make anything up to me. I know if you thought it was safe you'd let me go. I trust you."  
  
The taller boy kissed the top of Quatre's head. "I'm just sorry you're disappointed. It's just safer for you-"  
  
"I can take care of myself, you know."  
  
Koeran pulled him tight. "I know. But you don't have too right now. That's why we're together, so I can take care of you. As long as we're together, you're my responsibility, and I won't allow you into a situation I can't completely protect you in."  
  
Quatre sighed but snuggled closer. "I know, and I do understand. I'll tell you what, I'll tune the violin while you cook dinner."  
  
"You're not too mad at me are you, Little One?"  
  
Little One? Hadn't that always been his nickname for Quatre?  
  
But Quatre simply smiled and tried to look exasperated. "For the love of Allah! I'm not mad. We'll stay in for a nice quiet evening that'll end with me screaming your name anyway, so it doesn't really matter." The grin on Quatre's face was leering.  
  
"You're convinced of that are you? What if I said no sex for you for a whole week."  
  
Quatre pouted, and Trowa couldn't help the smile that formed on his lips. Even if he was jealous, he had to be thankful to this tall boy beside Quatre; Koeran could very well have been the one that kept Quatre safe from himself long enough for Trowa to find him.  
  
"Well, I'd just have to run around completely naked and see how long you lasted."  
  
A wicked gleam entered Koeran's eyes then. "You know, Little One, I'm not really that hungry right now, and I'm not really in the mood to practice that retched violin."  
  
Quatre laughed. "Well I'm in the mood to learn about that thruster engine, so quite stalling and go make dinner. Remember, you may make the decisions, but you've still got to make me happy before I make, you, happy. So go to it!" Quatre winked before turning to leave. He must have seen some light from the camera, because the next thing was Quatre's face right next to the lens.  
  
"Koeran, did you bump the camera when y-"  
  
The picture stopped, and the remote accounted for the fact that there were no more segments on this disk.  
  
"I understand now." It was Corinne's voice; Trowa turned to look at her. She smiled kindly to him. "Something Quatre said about Muslim relationships. I understand what he meant now. He was right, complete trust and it works just fine. I'll be damned." She shook her head to herself.  
  
Trowa was about to say something when the door opened and Marieminna ran in, a box of chicken in one hand, and her kite in the other.  
  
"Sorry we took so long, the guards couldn't find where Lt. Baker had put my kite. Here Shingam, this is the chicken." She handed the box to the quiet boy. "Hey, what's wrong? How come everyone feels so sad?" She looked around bewildered until Lady picked her up and asked her where Quatre was.  
  
"I'm right here." And there he was. The Quatre of now, taller and fuller than he'd been at fifteen, his hair was the same, as was almost everything about him; Quatre hadn't changed all that much. And yet he had, he had an inner strength to him now, a power that radiated off of him. He may still be slighter than most men his age, but he was by no means less powerful. His Quatre, not Koeran's.  
  
Carrying four pizza boxes, the blonde dropped them on the coffee table before getting his first real look around the room. He stopped dead in his tracks. Sensitive as always, Quatre must have felt it and he turned towards Trowa first out of concern.  
  
"What's wrong?"  
  
As carefully as he could, Trowa told him. 


	21. Chapter 21

"I'm so tired I might sleep right through Christmas." Corinne lay lengthwise across the second couch she'd installed in her office for this session; Quatre lay likewise on the other.  
  
He tried a weak smile, but when he realized she had her eyes closed, he gave up. "I know what you mean. Unfortunately, I think if I tried, not only would my own children wake me up, but so would Marieminna and Duo! But I think I am going to go to bed and sleep until sometime tomorrow afternoon. That should still leave plenty of time for the Christmas Eve party Duo's having."  
  
"Oh shoot, I forgot all about that. Damn, I don't suppose he'd let me out of it either."  
  
"Probably a safe bet."  
  
Since nine o'clock this morning, he and Corinne had been engaged in a session unlike any other, either had been through. Together they'd desperately tried to sweep the most dangerous of emotions from Quatre's memory while preventing his conscious mind from coming in contact with them. It was tedious and dangerous work. In fact, Lady Une had insisted that Marieminna go to her mother's house in New America for the day; so that in the event something went wrong, at least she'd be spared. But nothing had gone wrong, and now in the aftermath of an exhausting session, both patient and doctor lay spent and ready for a vacation.  
  
Last night had been a nightmare. Sekurra's little present had uncovered the most hanous of crimes against him. Trowa in all his infinite patients had wrestled with Quatre's disbelief and outrage while explaining what the psychiatrist had done to him all those years ago. Most of it Quatre still couldn't quite comprehend. He understood the emotional turmoil, he'd helped Corinne clear it out of his mind for the last six hours; but because he couldn't witness the vid for himself, he was left in the dark as to how bad it really was. Trowa had tried to explain to him what he'd seen, but without seeing it himself it was hard for him to understand the complex emotions he sensed from Trowa. He figured most of it had to do with the three segments that had followed.  
  
He'd seen those. Trowa and the others had sat patiently again as he watched his sister find him in that hated room. He'd been so surprised when he'd learned that Cijen had covered for his sisters; even to the point of disbelieving the vid. Seeafa had helped Cijen care for him, and Iria had been studying medicine on a remote colony; at least that's what he'd been told. But the vid showed clearly that Iria was close by, but had refused to come, and indeed, Seeafa had simply run away.  
  
And Cijen, his most beloved sister. He didn't even have to watch the vid, only listen to her voice and remember the pain she'd been in when she'd found him. Even after all these years, he could still remember the pain and fear that had rolled off of her on that fateful night she'd rescued him from Hell.  
  
But the vid's second segment had thrown him into a rage. All this time, all along he'd never known Cijen had been the reason why his father had never come for him. He'd always assumed his father had cut his losses, only now to find out that that was far from the truth. But that wasn't what had enraged him, he could truly have cared less; but Cijen had put herself in danger, stood against their father for him, and could very well have died for it. A threat to his fortune or even himself did not go over lightly with Raberba Winner. Some frightened part of him had considered just for a moment that his father might very well have killed Cijen if he thought he could have gotten away with it sans repercussions. That was where the rage came from, to think that Cijen would act so carelessly, throw her life around like nothing, all to protect him. He was furious with her, screaming and damning her in their living room. Sally nearly had to administer tranquilizers just to calm him down.  
  
But it hadn't ended there. He'd called Rashid directly after that segment, demanding from the proud man what he knew about Cijen arranging for him to be ambushed by the Maguanacs. At first the giant had said very little, but as Quatre remained more insistent, he told Quatre everything. How Cijen had gone to the Magunac base on Earth and begged them to help her, begged on the grounds that the Magunacs were the descendents of the Sultan's personal guard of old, and Quatre was their responsibility since he would have been future Sultan. At first the argument had not gone over well, but Cijen had refused to give up. She'd presented the vid of Quatre's ordeal in the room, shown them and told them stories of the beatings he'd endured, explained the worthless reasoning behind them; until finally she'd told them the one thing they'd needed to know, that he was empathic. Already curious about this newly emerged talent in humans, the Maguancs agreed to take him in, one to get him away from the abuse as a fellow Arabian, and two, to learn a little more about a gift few of their own people possessed.  
  
Rashid had received a command to ambush the WEI ship and find a way to convince the boy on board to go with him. But Quatre had been so withdrawn and aloof, Rashid hadn't known what to do. But as their own men had betrayed them, Rashid had been stunned to learn that Quatre possessed natural piloting skills, he used that to his advantage and convinced him to join. The rest was history as Quatre knew it.  
  
He'd asked why Rashid had never told him the truth, but the older man had only gotten a far way look in his eye before saying, "I thought about it, but knew you would react badly to it in the beginning. By the time I could have told you, you were already happy here and with Koeran, there seemed little point, Master." Begrudgingly, Quatre had agreed.  
  
But that left the final and perhaps hardest part of the entire vid. The small two minute scene with Koeran. He'd guessed correctly that the vid had been sent by Cijen to Koeran, so that the young man would have a copy of the vid and understand the danger Quatre was in, and what she'd done to protect him. Koeran had most likely witnessed the vid and then tried to record over it, not realizing some special function on the camera to write over password coded sequences. After Koeran had been killed, Quatre had packaged his things together and sent some of them to Cijen for safe keeping. Cijen must have placed the vid in the case with the rest, not realizing what was on it.  
  
There had been such an easy way about their relationship, and Quatre had wept openly in Trowa's arms at the sight of his first lover. There was still so much unresolved pain in Koeran's death; feelings and emotions he didn't think would ever go away.  
  
He'd watched himself as he'd been before and was now, the submissive partner. With Koeran it had been justified, he'd been learning exactly what it meant to be a man, and more than that, a lover. But while he wept in Trowa's arms at his first love's sight, he'd also wept for the empty feeling he had playing the role of the weak one now. Things had been so perfect back then, his role had been correct, and even the years spent with Trowa-it might have been false strength, but his role as leader and protector had been right. Now he was lost and alone, frightened because his role was not right, and his partner refused to see that.  
  
Eventually the vid had ended, and he and Corinne had arranged to meet in the morning to find a way of defusing the mental bomb in his head. The group had eaten in silence and then left, no happiness left from earlier that evening. Trowa had put the children to be before dragging Quatre into their own room for the first time in five days. He'd awoken to nightmares the whole night, finally begging off sleep to watch the segments of the vid that he could, over and over and over again.  
  
Now, exhausted and drained from the sweep, every nerve tingled as he prepared to return to his own quarters. "I'll see you at the party tomorrow."  
  
"Are you sure you're alright? I'm not even sure I'll be able to make it down to the main office to tell Lady she's in the all clear. The trigger's still there, and the bomb is still ticking, but we've erected enough shields that at the very least the only one who could possibly suffer permanent damage would be you. I don't like leaving it like this, but there isn't anything else we can do today, and the rest is going to take a while."  
  
"At least Trowa's safe."  
  
Corinne nodded weakly as she moved to stand, he helped her up. "Yes, the shields protect him from the backlash, he'll be fine. However, remember not to watch that segment of the vid, the others know what not to say, and as long as the trigger isn't directed towards you, you won't be in any danger. Like I said, I hate leaving it like this, but right now we don't have any options."  
  
He inclined his head, agreeing with her. "Do you want me to walk you down to Headquarters?"  
  
"No. No sense in both of us being miserable. Go back to your quarters, and sleep. Tell Trowa if he tries to wake you up, I'll make it a criminal offence and have him thrown in the brig. Do we even have a brig?"  
  
He laughed weakly. "Sort of. I'll tell him, but I doubt it'll be necessary, he'll just have to take one look at me and he'll know I'm tired."  
  
Suddenly, Corinne stopped their progress towards the door. Looking deeply into his eyes, she asked the one question he wished she wouldn't have.  
  
"How are things going between the two of you?"  
  
Not knowing what to say, and being far to tired to get into it, he shrugged his shoulders. "We still need to talk things over, but we're getting there. Let's save this for another day though, Corinne, I'm far too exhausted to think about it all right now, and I know you're too exhausted to listen."  
  
She smiled. "You're probably right. We'll discuss it during another session, but I'm worried about you, I want you to know that."  
  
"And I appreciate it, but I don't want to get into it right now."  
  
"You're lucky I'm too tired to argue with you."  
  
"I know."  
  
They separated at the door, Corinne heading towards Lady Une's office, he heading towards a warm bed. His feet dragged as he shuffled down the hallway, too drained by the rawness of the emotions he'd had to deal with.  
  
With Corinne he'd tried his best not to act as if the past two days had effected him, but that was simply untrue. His mental shields were in rubbles, shifted to cover the precious link he shared with Trowa, pulling away from other areas of his mind to protect his lover.  
  
He was tired, exposed, exhausted, and just plain drained of all his energy. He felt he would burst into tears at any moment, weep his pain at the drop of a hat. So much had happened, and with the barely covered emotions of terror from his unknown childhood experience, it was a wonder he wasn't hiding under a table somewhere.  
  
Chuckling weakly at the thought, he resigned himself to simply hiding under the covers. He'd leave a quick note to Trowa, not to wake him until sometime tomorrow and then climb between the warm blankets and let his mind do a self-sweep as he slept. Reaching his door, he slowly punched in the pass code, his body almost too tired to even lift his hand.  
  
He had the foresight to notice the slip on the door, he had a package.  
  
As the door opened, and he got the first sight of his home, he felt his last remaining shields crumble to dust. He could feel the empathic storm rising, and desperately he grabbed at his heart to hold the pain inside. It was too much, just too much.  
  
In front of him, in bold letters and cheerful script was a banner, strung across the living room. An announcement, a birth announcement.  
  
"IT'S A BOY!"  
  
Everywhere he looked were baby things. A changing table rested in front of the couch. The baby dresser he remembered from his youth was backed up against one wall, the solid oak finish shining in the sun from the windows. A baby cradle sat in the middle, and softly as it rocked back and forth, the sound of cooing could be heard from it. And all around him were toys, toys for every age, from infant to toddler, to childhood wonder. Boxes and boxes of toys were piled ceiling high all over the apartment. The ones on the floor, not in boxes, he recognized, they'd belonged to him.  
  
He heard their voices like screeching sirens.  
  
"You only have five months left for a natural birth."  
  
"A genetic takes half the time, Quatre."  
  
"You want to be a father some day, don't you?"  
  
"If a child is the only way to save our fortune then you'd better do your job and have one!"  
  
"I don't care if it goes against every principle you've ever had in your pathetic life, you will have a child, and you will deliver us from this crisis!"  
  
"It's a child for god's sake, not a business partner, what's the big deal?!"  
  
"You're so worthless, Quatre! All you have to do, all you absolutely have to do, is fuck some woman or jack-off into a cup! How hard is that?!"  
  
"It's just a child, you can do that, it's about money, Quatre, not about the child. The child is nothing more than an inconvenience."  
  
And then he heard his own voice, as he'd talked to Trowa on a night long ago.  
  
"Someday, when we're ready, we'll start a family. A cute genetic on your side. She'll have dark brownish red curls and bright green eyes. Oh Trowa, she'll look just like you, I know she will. Or a boy, a lengthy boy you'll teach all the tricks of the circus trade too. He'd learn back flips and summersaults, and how to walk the tightrope, at least from you. From me, I'd teach him about music and even my company. But I wouldn't force it on him, not like me, I'd let him decide for himself, what exactly he wanted to be. We'll be good parents, great parents someday. You'll see Trowa, you'll see, someday."  
  
And then later, much later.  
  
"What if it never happens Trowa? What if I can never have children with a clear conscious? What if for the rest of my life, anytime I look at a child of mine, I wonder, 'Did I do it for the money?' God Trowa, how could my father do this to me?"  
  
".no.please no.don't do this.anything but this."  
  
He couldn't think, couldn't move, he just stared at the piles and piles of baby things and felt his heart ripped from his heaving chest. Anything but this, anything but the reminder of the one thing he wanted more in the entire world than anything else, but could never have, would never have. A child, a child of his own body, a son or daughter with his hair or eyes. The one thing all the money in the world could never buy him. He would not trade a child's life for a fortune, and in so refusing, condemned himself. A child, it was the one thing he'd never have of his own, and the one thing he secretly craved, maybe even more than Trowa. To be a father, to hold a child in his arms and know half of himself rested in him or her. It was too much, anything but this.  
  
He felt his mind swirl with self-hatred and contempt as he desperately moved against the wall, blindly searching for the com unit. The agony was so over powering, the storm building through his system, crippling. He tripped the last of the way, harsh sobs retched from his throat as he pressed desperately at the controller.  
  
When he heard it beep, he struggled with consciousness for one last cry for help before the storm overtook him.  
  
"Trowa.help me."  
  
* * *  
  
He had to pick up the children.  
  
Sally had taken the day off to finish the last of her Christmas crises and had graciously offered to take Shingam and Killashandra with her. She'd had to promise ice cream and new toys before Shingam had agreed to leave Quatre's sights. The boy was clinging to Quatre more and more, and Trowa could tell that Killashandra was doing the same.  
  
Trowa wasn't stupid, he knew what was coming. Quatre was completely attached to these two children, they all were, and he was no exception. He was counting the days until Quatre suggested they adopt the two. He wasn't quite sure how he felt about it.  
  
He was only twenty-one, in this advanced day and age, most people didn't start having children until their thirties. He and Quatre were so young, and Trowa couldn't help but wish he could have a little bit more time with Quatre, alone. But all he had to do was look into Killashandra's eyes before he melted completely.  
  
The four year old, might not have yet talked, but she'd somehow managed to find a place so directly in his heart that he had no choice but to snuggle her close when he read to her, or brushed her hair lovingly in the morning. He knew he was falling in love with her, and if he were honest with himself, he already was. Quatre had once said that a couple should have children when the love they had for each other was so large they just had to share it with another. Perhaps that time was now.  
  
He knew what he'd say when Quatre finally asked him, he'd say yes. He'd open his arms and love two children that desperately needed a family, because Quatre wanted them, and so did he.  
  
But with that knowledge came absolute fear. Not a day went by that he didn't fear he'd become somehow angered by the children. Not a day went by that he didn't fear becoming all he'd known of a father. And Trowa knew Quatre felt the same way. Both were so afraid of repeating the mistakes of their pasts, of becoming the men they had hated and feared for so many years. What if he hit them, what if he struck Shingam's beautiful face and then couldn't stop? What if? The fear never ended.  
  
So he'd decided. He would agree, but with that agreement had to come his own piece of mind. He knew somewhere deep inside of himself he was capable of hurting them, and he knew-no mater how he wished to deny it-so was Quatre. So they'd continue the therapy, he'd make Quatre promise at least that. If they were prepared to be parents, then they had to be prepared to put their children before themselves, and that meant they needed to have Corinne or someone else, teach them what it meant to be real parents, ones that didn't beat or rape their children into submission.  
  
He startled out of his reverie as a paper airplane hit him on the forehead.  
  
"What?" He looked up at Duo's bemused eyes.  
  
"What'cha thinkin' about tall, dark and weird?"  
  
He rolled his eyes. With Quatre and Corinne in a session to clear out the unstable emotions in Quatre's mind, he'd opted to go to work to avoid worrying the entire day. The other pilots had joined him, lending support and trying their best to keep his mind off it. Duo had been a chatterbox all day, while Heero had beaten the crap out of him in a three hour game of basketball. Wufei had even shown up, not wanting to go with his fiancé to town; he'd opted to keep Trowa company by railing Duo every chance he got. All in all the day had run quickly and Trowa was waiting for Sally to bring the children back before heading home.  
  
"I was thinking I hope Sally returns quickly."  
  
"Why, getting bored of us?" Duo smiled, knowing he'd exasperated his older friend to no end the entire day.  
  
"Duo, let's play a game."  
  
That caught his attention. "A game, ok, what is it?"  
  
He smiled, trap set, sprung and caught! "Let's see how long you can be quiet. Will it be the end of this sentence or maybe-Gods willing-until Sally returns and I leave."  
  
"Fuck you."  
  
"End of sentence."  
  
They all laughed.  
  
Corinne entered just as the sound was dying down. She smiled kindly as Trowa rose to go to her.  
  
"He's fine. We've managed to erect some shields, so that even if he does hear the trigger word, he at least won't kill anyone but himself. I know, small comfort, but it's the best we could do in one day. Trust me, that's more than most could have done in a lot longer than that."  
  
He nodded, not at all happy, but willing to accept the small victory. "So Quatre still can't hear the trigger word."  
  
"That's right. It would be very bad. But he'd have to hear it in the right context for it to work anyway, and I doubt that between now and tomorrow he'll hear it. Especially since he's so exhausted he'll probably sleep until late tomorrow anyway."  
  
"Is he alright?"  
  
She nodded kindly but he could tell she was just as tired as she made Quatre out to be. "Just let him rest. He need to let his mind and body relax, it was a trying day."  
  
He agreed and watched her walk into Lady Une's office before he turned back to see the smiling faces of his friends. "What?"  
  
Heero answered. "Nothing, we're just grateful we don't have to entertain you tomorrow as well."  
  
They laughed, that is until there was an ear splitting scream from Une's office. As one they ran to the door, throwing it open to find Corinne clutching her head, and Lady racing around her desk to find out what was happening. Corinne's face was a twist of absolute pain and horror, and as they watched, she clawed at her hair, threatening to pull in it in her suffering.  
  
Surrounding her, they looked to Une for answers. The woman's face was just as confused as theirs were. "She came in and just started screaming!"  
  
Suddenly it stopped, and breathing hard, Corinne looked terror stricken into Trowa's eyes. "Quatre!"  
  
His world froze. Flashbacks to when he'd first met Corinne assaulted him. She hadn't looked much better as she's calmed the empathic storm from Quatre's mind two months ago; he also registered the same look on her face when Killashandra had had her own brush with the storm.  
  
"What's wrong, Corinne?! What's wrong with, Quatre?!"  
  
He didn't have to wait long to find out. There was a split second warning as the intercom system beeped, before he heard Quatre's sobbing and terror filled voice.  
  
"Trowa.help me."  
  
* * *  
  
If he could have kicked down the door to get in faster, he would have. As it was he had to waste precious seconds plugging in the pass code. As it opened, he and his companions behind him gasped in horror.  
  
All around them were symbols of children. Baby toys, cribs, bottles, and chairs; all arranged around the room to make it look like an over- crowed nursery. A mocking banner hung over the living room, proclaiming loudly that it was a boy.  
  
He swore violently. This had to be Quatre's sisters, there was on one else what would have played such a cruel and tasteless joke.  
  
With desperation borne from knowing that even now Quatre was wrestling in the throws of a storm, he called out Quatre's name in near panic. Likewise, he heard the others call out as well.  
  
"QUATRE!!!"  
  
But their calls went unanswered, and Trowa raced to the other side of the room to look in their bedroom, while Heero tore to the other side to look in the children's room. Nothing, there was no Quatre, and as they called, his blond lover made no sound to direct them to his location.  
  
Panic raced through him as he remember the last time Quatre had been ambushed by his sister Liteea, he didn't dare start to believe that Quatre had run away, he simply couldn't take it.  
  
"Trowa!" He turned to see Corinne, supported by Lady Une, pointing to the back corner of the room. A long tapestry hung in cascades of burgundy fabric, and at the base, curled around the folds of red, huddled a shivering mass of muted sunshine.  
  
Quatre's knees were drawn into his chest as he leaned against the wall. Face hidden in his knees, he rocked back and forth but made no sound. From across the room, as he raced to his lover's side, he could see Quatre overcome with violent shakes.  
  
"Quatre." Softly he knelt down in front of his long time love. He called Quatre's name again, but when no response sounded, he moved his fingertips to brush against Quatre's arms, which were wrapped about his legs.  
  
"DON'T TOUCH ME!!!" Violently, Quatre pulled away from him, crawling into himself and the wall to get away from him.  
  
"Quatre, please. I'm not going to hurt you. It's ok, I'm here now, it's ok." He didn't try to touch his lover again, only held his hands out in a display of peace. Beside him, he felt the air shift as Lady Une helped Corinne to kneel beside him.  
  
Corinne's voice was calm but strained as she spoke softly to Quatre. "It's alright, Quatre. Calm down. I'm going to try and help you calm down now, let me in. Let me help you, Quatre."  
  
There was silence for a moment before he watched the shaking begin to subside in Quatre's huddled frame. He wanted to reach out to him, wanted to take Quatre into his arms and never let him go, protect him from the world, but he couldn't, not this very second. He busied himself by thinking up ways to kill each and every one of Quatre's worthless sisters.  
  
".why?" It was the voice of a broken man, and Trowa felt a part of himself die at hearing that tone yet again from his loving partner.  
  
"Oh, Quatre, I'm so sorry. So sorry."  
  
Blue eyes looked up then, met green, and from their depths fell the tears of a lost angel. Shaken, and crushed, Quatre's silent tears fell, dropping to his pants and staining them with his agony.  
  
".any-anything but-but this. They could have done anything but this." His voice was paced, filled with pain and suffering; nothing but a whisper on the breeze.  
  
"They'll pay for this, Quatre. I swear it, I promise they'll pay for this!" He was so angry, his voice shook with fear for his partner, and rage at the women that would do this to his most treasured lover.  
  
".for them. I did it all for them. Killed, slaughtered, maimed, destroyed my soul for them.for them." Desperate blue pools caught his eye. "I gave them everything that I had. Did everything I could, to give them a world where they'd be free. I sold my soul for them, all for them!" In a sudden twist, Quatre was yelling, nearly screaming hysterically. "Everything that I was I gave for them! I killed tens of thousands of people so they wouldn't need to be afraid! So their children would never be afraid!" And then he was sobbing, large gasps of breath that brought accompanying tears from Trowa as well. "You were the only thing I wanted for myself, the only thing I asked for. I would have done the rest, been the person they wanted me to be, but you, you and the child, the only two things I refused to give up. It wasn't so much to ask for was it, Trowa? Did I ask for too much in return for what I gave up? Did I?"  
  
Blindly he shook his head. "No, Quatre, no, you didn't ask for too much."  
  
The screaming was back. "They why?! How could they do this too me! They know how much I wanted my own child, how desperately I wanted a child of my body! It's all I've ever wanted, ever really wanted! The only thing I wanted! How can they do this? How can they?! How can they taunt me with the one thing in the universe that I can never, ever have!? I'm their brother, Trowa! Their own brother! How can they do this?! How can they treat their own brother who loves them like this?! Why!?" There was such utter despair in Quatre's voice, such pain and betrayal. He wept tears of pain and sorrow as his lover cried, cried for his pain, cried for his suffering.  
  
For it is true, money can buy you almost anything, but it can't buy you everything. Quatre desired the one thing his money could never afford him, a child of his body that did not corrupt his morals, and no means of having one existed that did not.  
  
Broken and sobbing, Quatre finally allowed Trowa to take him into his arms. Sliding up to his lover, he pulled Quatre into his lap, running his long fingers though blonde sunshine, and calling softly to his lover, that it would be alright, he'd make it better, he'd make it alright.  
  
They stayed that way for a long time, Quatre sobbing, while Corinne swept as much of the tangle of emotion away as she could, while he rocked Quatre back and forth.  
  
He noticed Duo shed tears on his friend's behalf, before the long haired boy turned to grab a box of tissue to bring it over to them, stealing one for himself first. He never made it that far. Hitting one of the stacked boxes, a holographic imager fell to the floor and began to play its recorded message.  
  
Fallen to the side, so it looked like she was floating horizontally above the floor, Liteea Winner held a cruel smile on her face. Her words chilled him to the bone.  
  
"Merry Christmas, Quatre." In a sick display, that was all the message said, and on some form of repeat, it said it over and over again. Liteea's twisted visage mocking the season of love with this gift of hatred.  
  
He watched helplessly as, as if in slow motion, Quatre's head lifted from its place against his shoulder to take in the image of his demented sister. Duo tried without success to silence the horrible thing, but over and over the message played, mocking them all as Quatre sat motionless in his lap and listened to it.  
  
Finally, Wufei could take no more and stomped on the worthless thing, not stopping until it was a mass of expensive parts and nothing more. The silence in its wake was defending. They watched Quatre, watched as he did nothing but stare at the space his sisters visage had been. Trowa noted with fear that Quatre barely breathed.  
  
Suddenly the door opened, and Sally walked in, her cheerful demeanor instantly gone as she took in the scene before her. Behind her, Shingam and Killashandra walked in, their eyes finding him and Quatre without hesitation.  
  
Shingam moved to run to them, but as he took off, Heero's strong arms caught him and he held the struggling boy tightly, giving Trowa the time he still needed to reach Quatre.  
  
But in the shuffle, he'd missed it. Missed Quatre's tell tale signs, before his slight lover shifted, then stood and moved from his lap.  
  
"Quatre?" But the blonde didn't seem to hear him. Instead he moved like a condemned man, feet dragging as he moved to look over the objects that invaded their home. When he finally spoke it was too no one in particular.  
  
"They'll never understand. Maybe I shouldn't either. My father made it so easy. Donate a little sperm and five months later there was one more Winner mouth to feed. He made it seem so effortless; and I always knew that was the way I was supposed to feel about it. Men weren't supposed to care about womanly things like babies. But I did. I cared. I wanted a child so badly, a child of my body, to hold and protect, to love and comfort, to be to it, everything I'd ever wanted my father to be to me. I wasn't supposed to care about children, but I did, I do. I want a child of my own, so very, very badly." The agony of Quatre's words touched their souls, as Trowa rose and went to his partner.  
  
"You understand don't you, Trowa. A child of my own body, without guilt, without he or she ever wondering if I did it to save my company. A child of my own to know I gave them life, part of myself out of such overpowering and immense love. You understand, don't you?"  
  
Solemnly he nodded. "Yes, Quatre. Yes, I understand."  
  
His partner started to sob in ernest again. "They why can't they! Why can't they understand that it's killing me! That I die a little bit everyday because of the will, because thanks to my father no child of mine will ever feel as if they weren't a means to an end! And because of that, because of that I'll never have my own children! I'll never have my family! That all of this," he swung his arms wildly around the room. "Is the worst betrayal of all they could have committed against me!" And then Quatre collapsed into his chest, clinging to him desperately. "Why Trowa? Why do they hate me so much, that they'd kill me in this slow torturous way? What did I do to make them hate me so, so much? All I did was protect them, and all I asked for in return was you, just you. Why?"  
  
He had no answers to give.  
  
* * *  
  
Through the fog of his agony, Quatre could feel Corinne's weak efforts to finish the sweep. He tried his best to help her along, but for the most part he simply existed, wondering over and over in his mind if the pain would ever stop, if the betrayal would ever end.  
  
Safe in Trowa's arms, he'd asked all the right questions, but like he knew he didn't, Trowa had no answers to give. He buried his face in Trowa's chest, hoping to escape the sight of all his baby things, and the loneliness and hopelessness they brought.  
  
He was startled with the rest of them, when a mechanical voice said loudly, "YOU'RE A PRETTY GIRL!"  
  
It drew his eyes from the darkness to see Killashandra, hand poised to touch the button again, staring at a baby mirror that hung from the side of the crib. He remembered the toy. A small glowing button at the top beckoned to be pressed, and when it was, it would make the same comment over and over, "YOU'RE A PRETTY BOY!, or, YOU'RE A PRETTY GIRL!"  
  
As they watched, Killa pressed the button and was startled just a little by the loud voice that again professed her beauty. And then in a show of her first real emotion, Killashandra turned to face him, eyes wide with wonder and happiness. It wasn't a smile, not by any means, but her eyes held a real look of emotion in them, and Quatre found himself drawn from his own pain and into her childlike wonder.  
  
Just as quickly as it had come, she turned to look at the mirror and again pressed the button. Over and over she pressed it, the new expression in her eyes not wavering once. And like men forced to watch but not participate, too stunned to do anything, they let her continue.  
  
Finally, Shingam-whom Heero had put down only moment's before Killa's discovery-went to stand beside his small friend. "Killa, Quatre's really sad now, so we need to be really quiet."  
  
But Killashandra ignored him and depressed the button yet again. And Shingam was unfazed. He himself moved to a rocking horse that stood close to the mirror. With questioning hand, he pushed at the wooden horse before stepping back as it rocked towards him. When he looked up at Quatre he had the same wondering and nervous look in his eye as Killa had had.  
  
"Quatre, what kind of training devise is this?"  
  
And suddenly, his pain wasn't important anymore. He watched the two children look at toys he'd taken for granted as a child, watched their eyes fill with wonder at the simple inventions. Looking around the room, he was treated to a sight he didn't think he'd ever see; a room filled with baby things, things that didn't matter. He felt his mind shift into place, and heard Corinne's startled exclamation as her work was suddenly no longer needed.  
  
So he'd never have a baby of his own, so he'd never have children of his body, did it matter? Did it really and truly matter? A child from his body or another, what difference did it make? A child was a child, and he had two perfectly beautiful examples standing in awe right before his eyes.  
  
He felt Trowa tighten his grip on him as his shoulders relaxed, and he looked at his long time partner with such love and understanding that Trowa visibly blinked at the change in him. He nuzzled the underside of Trowa's chin once, before moving to kneel between the two inquisitive children.  
  
"It's not a training device, Shingam, it's just a toy. It's funny, the mirror Killa's playing with, and this rocking horse were the only two toys my mother purchased for me before she died. As a child, they were my two favorite toys." Killa continued to depress the glowing button, but Shingam, turned to him, a questioningly look on his face.  
  
"Quatre, it's ok that Killa and I touch them, isn't it?"  
  
He smiled. "Yes, it's ok. In fact, I'm glad you're playing with them. It's such a waste for them to have no one to love them. If I were to give these toys to you and Killashandra, would you both promise to take really extra special good care of them?"  
  
Shingam nodded enthusiastically before, hesitating. "But Quatre, don't you want to give the toys to your little boy and girl?"  
  
So innocent and unassuming. "I think I just did." And Quatre hugged him; wrapped Shingam up into his arms and held the boy close. He stood, turned to look at Trowa's face, and saw all he needed to know. Trowa agreed. These children were theirs now.  
  
He felt the huge smile grow across his face, and he set Shingam on the rocking horse before moving to stand beside Trowa. There was concern still in Trowa's eyes, but also understanding. The timing could have been better, but it didn't matter, this is what they needed, what the children needed. They were a match, and while it wouldn't be easy, Trowa's eyes said he was determined to make it work.  
  
A joyful laugh fell from his lips as he threw himself at Trowa. His taller partner felt that feeling as well, that sense of completeness, as he lifted Quatre up and swung him around, the two of them laughing and giggling at the newness of being parents.  
  
But the joyfulness couldn't last, not when the Winner sisters set out to destroy their brother.  
  
In a shattering cry, the sound of a wailing baby could be heard, and Quatre swung around, desperate to find the sound and silence it. He couldn't explain the emotions. One minute he was overjoyed at learning the two children would soon be his and Trowa's, the next the burnt out despair was upon him again, all at the sound of some unknown baby's cry.  
  
He pushed his way out of Trowa's arms, and raced across the room. Throwing the covers out of the cradle, he came face to face with a scene from his most horrifying nightmare. As he began to scream, he noted absently that whoever had done the molding had done an excellent job, the face of the baby AI looked exactly like him.  
  
* * *  
  
Trowa barely had time to register the blanket flying before he heard Quatre begin to scream. It was a sound he'd never heard before, so filled with horror that it rivaled even the sound he'd heard over the vid as the mad psychiatrist had brutalized his partner.  
  
With lightening fast reflexes he raced to Quatre's side. He took a quick look at the thing in the crib and blanched before swinging Quatre away from the sight and tucking him as soundly as he could in his arms.  
  
The child was obviously suppose to look like Quatre, blonde hair and blue eyes, its face had been molded to look just like him. But this child's face was wrong, painted on bruises and lacerations covered its face, and the upper body Trowa had glimpsed before he'd pulled his lover away.  
  
The message was clear, and Trowa tried in vain to quiet his lover. But Quatre continued to scream, a horrible sound that gripped them all. His voice broached no argument as he shouted.  
  
"Heero! Wufei! Get that thing out of here, now!" As they moved to comply, Duo grabbed the children with Sally's help and moved them to the couch. Desperately, he tried to calm Quatre down, tried to ease his lovers fears. "It'll be alright Quatre. Shhhhhh. Little One, you'd never hurt your own child, never. Oh Quatre, shhhhhhh. You'd never hurt our children, never. Shhhhhhh."  
  
Minutes were like hours as Wufei and Heero moved all of the furniture and toys out of the apartment to sit in the hallway. The banner was the last thing to come down, and he himself had to retrieve it because it was so high up.  
  
Lady Une made a few calls and found out that an outside vendor had come in to arrange for a present that was thought too elaborate for the guards to arrange. A call to the vendor revealed they'd been led to believe the present was from some loving sisters who had realized their brother was going to be a father. It wasn't anyone's fault, no one's except Quatre's sisters.  
  
Quatre's eyes were vacant as he sat shivering on the couch. Sally had given him a sedative only a moment before, the effects just starting to work. As Trowa sat down, Quatre curled into him, begging for the comfort he so desperately needed.  
  
Trowa stroked his hair and talked calmly to him. Softly reassuring him that everything was going to be alright.  
  
Nearly an hour after it had all begun, Quatre shifted before standing. Trowa tried to grab for him but Quatre shied away.  
  
"Don't."  
  
Slowly and with deliberate care, Quatre walked to the vid and entered a com call code. The next thing any of them knew, a man in a very formal business suit was on the vid.  
  
"Good evening, Mr. Winner. How may I help you?"  
  
Quatre's voice was dead, his eyes haunted, and the man on the screen looked alarmed.  
  
"If you are not loyal to me, Jacob, go and find me someone that is. I wish to talk about my sisters."  
  
A dark expression filtered across the man-Jacob's-face, before he answered. "What has my wife done this time, Mr. Winner?"  
  
Any other time, Quatre would have joked with the man, Trowa was certain of that, but as they watched in silence, Quatre merely shook his head.  
  
"Too much to be forgiven. I need financial advice, Jacob, can you give me impartial financial advice?"  
  
Jacob nodded. "Mr. Winner, I was in the services of your father for a very long time, and I learned early on not to allow my personal feelings to interfere with business. What can I help you with?" There was a strange note in the man's voice, and Trowa realized quickly that the personal feelings were about Quatre. The man liked Quatre, and working for the man that had beat him must have been hard for Jacob.  
  
Quatre nodded. "Bring up my sisters' portfolios. Everything they bought using Winner money, everything my father bought for them over the years, display it on a side bar panel." In less than a minute, Liteea Winner's stock portfolio was flashing across the screen. Billions of dollars in investments flashed in a litany of zeros. Quatre's voice was devoid of emotions as he spoke. "How much of that is stock in WEI?"  
  
Jacob paused to look. "Roughly forty-five percent. You're father believed in playing it safe." Quatre nodded.  
  
"How much in total? What's she worth?" There was a strange way he said that, and Trowa stood when he figured out what was off about it. Quatre had asked as if Liteea herself was nothing but property.  
  
"At current market value, nearly five billion credits."  
  
"Exactly how many individual shares does she own. I want the exact number of total shares."  
  
Another pause, then, "One million, seven hundred thousand, eight hundred and thirty three shares."  
  
Quatre nodded coldly, Trowa moved to stand behind him. "Do the same for each of my sisters, I'll wait on the line for the numbers. Read me their names and their worth just like you did for Liteea."  
  
For the next twenty minutes, Jacob listed mass quantities of numbers, billions of credits in investments. When he'd finished, Quatre was smiling.  
  
"As I've already been told, I can make no purchasing power over the sum of one billion credits until my twenty-first birthday. Therefore I couldn't possible buy my sisters' portfolios' at fair market value. But their shares were bought with WEI money, and therefore belong to me." So cold and calculating, Trowa put both of his hands on Quatre's shoulders in comfort and warmth.  
  
"Jacob, buy them out. I want their portfolio's on my desk in the morning. Everything they thought they owned is mine, has always been mine, just like they are. They forgot who was the puppet master here!"  
  
Trowa tried to reason with him, find out more importantly, what he was doing.  
  
"Quatre-"  
  
"Hush! Now isn't the time!" Dismissed, Trowa waited nervously. He hazard a look at the others, their expressions similar to his own.  
  
"You're right that you can't buy them out at fair value, just as your correct in that technically their shares do belong to WEI. But Mr. Winner, if you can't buy them out at fair-"  
  
"They no longer deserved to be treated fairly, I've tried that, it doesn't work. If they insist on bringing this family down, then I will be the one to strike the final blow. I am my father's son, after all.  
  
"For every share that they own, they will be give a single credit. I don't care what the value was, they're lucky I'm giving them anything at all! A single credit for every share they own. Liteea's five billion credit portfolio will be nothing more than one point five million credits when the check arrives in time for Christmas breakfast. The same goes for all my sisters! Buy them all out, and put the money in a sheltered investment, then arrange for it to be given as a gift, the total will be well below my one billion credit limit. Put the stocks in an account for Trowa Barton. Make sure the account's untraceable. Send me the information I need to access it by tomorrow."  
  
Suddenly Quatre turned in his arms, a large and very sane smile on his face. There seemed to be a measure of relief there, as if in this one act, he felt as if he'd put things to rights. "I hope you don't mind Trowa. I did promise to make money a non issue for us in the future, but now that we've got a family to think about, well, I'd just feel better knowing we have more than just you and I need."  
  
He nodded dumbly. "I think that'll be more than enough."  
  
And Quatre beamed. "Yes, I agree. We'll have no problem caring for the children with just the dividends. After all, that's what my sisters were living off of all this time anyway."  
  
Then a strange expression crossed Quatre's face, and Trowa wasn't at all convinced of his partners sanity. "No, that won't do. That just won't do at all."  
  
Turning back towards the vid he regarded Jacob for a moment before speaking. "I've heard tale that my sister Cijen, stood against my sisters in my defense. Do you know anything about that, Jacob?"  
  
Carefully the man nodded. "Liteea mentioned it at the dinner table, yes. Sekurra went through the roof. I understand my daughter was there only a little while ago."  
  
So this was Liteea's husband, Sekurra's father. Now that he looked at the man, it made sense, Sekurra looked a bit like him in fact. The girl had at least taken her father's attitude and disposition instead of her mother's, it would seem.  
  
Quatre nodded. "Yes, she did. She was the one that told me in fact. Jacob, I wish to amend my instructions. Do exactly what I've asked, but do not touch Cijen's stocks. I have questions that need answering before I decide what to do about her.  
  
"One more thing. When the checks are delivered to my sisters, I wish a note to be attached. It will read simply: 'Merry Christmas, Quatre.' Understand?"  
  
Jacob nodded, and the call was disconnected. Later that night, after everyone had gone home, and Quatre had lain slumbering in his arms, the fax machine had sounded. The message on the sheet, "Done. Merry Christmas, Master Winner." Trowa didn't miss the reference to Quatre's father. 


	22. Chapter 22

"I'm so tired I might sleep right through Christmas." Corinne lay lengthwise across the second couch she'd installed in her office for this session; Quatre lay likewise on the other.  
  
He tried a weak smile, but when he realized she had her eyes closed, he gave up. "I know what you mean. Unfortunately, I think if I tried, not only would my own children wake me up, but so would Marieminna and Duo! But I think I am going to go to bed and sleep until sometime tomorrow afternoon. That should still leave plenty of time for the Christmas Eve party Duo's having."  
  
"Oh shoot, I forgot all about that. Damn, I don't suppose he'd let me out of it either."  
  
"Probably a safe bet."  
  
Since nine o'clock this morning, he and Corinne had been engaged in a session unlike any other, either had been through. Together they'd desperately tried to sweep the most dangerous of emotions from Quatre's memory while preventing his conscious mind from coming in contact with them. It was tedious and dangerous work. In fact, Lady Une had insisted that Marieminna go to her mother's house in New America for the day; so that in the event something went wrong, at least she'd be spared. But nothing had gone wrong, and now in the aftermath of an exhausting session, both patient and doctor lay spent and ready for a vacation.  
  
Last night had been a nightmare. Sekurra's little present had uncovered the most hanous of crimes against him. Trowa in all his infinite patients had wrestled with Quatre's disbelief and outrage while explaining what the psychiatrist had done to him all those years ago. Most of it Quatre still couldn't quite comprehend. He understood the emotional turmoil, he'd helped Corinne clear it out of his mind for the last six hours; but because he couldn't witness the vid for himself, he was left in the dark as to how bad it really was. Trowa had tried to explain to him what he'd seen, but without seeing it himself it was hard for him to understand the complex emotions he sensed from Trowa. He figured most of it had to do with the three segments that had followed.  
  
He'd seen those. Trowa and the others had sat patiently again as he watched his sister find him in that hated room. He'd been so surprised when he'd learned that Cijen had covered for his sisters; even to the point of disbelieving the vid. Seeafa had helped Cijen care for him, and Iria had been studying medicine on a remote colony; at least that's what he'd been told. But the vid showed clearly that Iria was close by, but had refused to come, and indeed, Seeafa had simply run away.  
  
And Cijen, his most beloved sister. He didn't even have to watch the vid, only listen to her voice and remember the pain she'd been in when she'd found him. Even after all these years, he could still remember the pain and fear that had rolled off of her on that fateful night she'd rescued him from Hell.  
  
But the vid's second segment had thrown him into a rage. All this time, all along he'd never known Cijen had been the reason why his father had never come for him. He'd always assumed his father had cut his losses, only now to find out that that was far from the truth. But that wasn't what had enraged him, he could truly have cared less; but Cijen had put herself in danger, stood against their father for him, and could very well have died for it. A threat to his fortune or even himself did not go over lightly with Raberba Winner. Some frightened part of him had considered just for a moment that his father might very well have killed Cijen if he thought he could have gotten away with it sans repercussions. That was where the rage came from, to think that Cijen would act so carelessly, throw her life around like nothing, all to protect him. He was furious with her, screaming and damning her in their living room. Sally nearly had to administer tranquilizers just to calm him down.  
  
But it hadn't ended there. He'd called Rashid directly after that segment, demanding from the proud man what he knew about Cijen arranging for him to be ambushed by the Maguanacs. At first the giant had said very little, but as Quatre remained more insistent, he told Quatre everything. How Cijen had gone to the Magunac base on Earth and begged them to help her, begged on the grounds that the Magunacs were the descendents of the Sultan's personal guard of old, and Quatre was their responsibility since he would have been future Sultan. At first the argument had not gone over well, but Cijen had refused to give up. She'd presented the vid of Quatre's ordeal in the room, shown them and told them stories of the beatings he'd endured, explained the worthless reasoning behind them; until finally she'd told them the one thing they'd needed to know, that he was empathic. Already curious about this newly emerged talent in humans, the Maguancs agreed to take him in, one to get him away from the abuse as a fellow Arabian, and two, to learn a little more about a gift few of their own people possessed.  
  
Rashid had received a command to ambush the WEI ship and find a way to convince the boy on board to go with him. But Quatre had been so withdrawn and aloof, Rashid hadn't known what to do. But as their own men had betrayed them, Rashid had been stunned to learn that Quatre possessed natural piloting skills, he used that to his advantage and convinced him to join. The rest was history as Quatre knew it.  
  
He'd asked why Rashid had never told him the truth, but the older man had only gotten a far way look in his eye before saying, "I thought about it, but knew you would react badly to it in the beginning. By the time I could have told you, you were already happy here and with Koeran, there seemed little point, Master." Begrudgingly, Quatre had agreed.  
  
But that left the final and perhaps hardest part of the entire vid. The small two minute scene with Koeran. He'd guessed correctly that the vid had been sent by Cijen to Koeran, so that the young man would have a copy of the vid and understand the danger Quatre was in, and what she'd done to protect him. Koeran had most likely witnessed the vid and then tried to record over it, not realizing some special function on the camera to write over password coded sequences. After Koeran had been killed, Quatre had packaged his things together and sent some of them to Cijen for safe keeping. Cijen must have placed the vid in the case with the rest, not realizing what was on it.  
  
There had been such an easy way about their relationship, and Quatre had wept openly in Trowa's arms at the sight of his first lover. There was still so much unresolved pain in Koeran's death; feelings and emotions he didn't think would ever go away.  
  
He'd watched himself as he'd been before and was now, the submissive partner. With Koeran it had been justified, he'd been learning exactly what it meant to be a man, and more than that, a lover. But while he wept in Trowa's arms at his first love's sight, he'd also wept for the empty feeling he had playing the role of the weak one now. Things had been so perfect back then, his role had been correct, and even the years spent with Trowa-it might have been false strength, but his role as leader and protector had been right. Now he was lost and alone, frightened because his role was not right, and his partner refused to see that.  
  
Eventually the vid had ended, and he and Corinne had arranged to meet in the morning to find a way of defusing the mental bomb in his head. The group had eaten in silence and then left, no happiness left from earlier that evening. Trowa had put the children to be before dragging Quatre into their own room for the first time in five days. He'd awoken to nightmares the whole night, finally begging off sleep to watch the segments of the vid that he could, over and over and over again.  
  
Now, exhausted and drained from the sweep, every nerve tingled as he prepared to return to his own quarters. "I'll see you at the party tomorrow."  
  
"Are you sure you're alright? I'm not even sure I'll be able to make it down to the main office to tell Lady she's in the all clear. The trigger's still there, and the bomb is still ticking, but we've erected enough shields that at the very least the only one who could possibly suffer permanent damage would be you. I don't like leaving it like this, but there isn't anything else we can do today, and the rest is going to take a while."  
  
"At least Trowa's safe."  
  
Corinne nodded weakly as she moved to stand, he helped her up. "Yes, the shields protect him from the backlash, he'll be fine. However, remember not to watch that segment of the vid, the others know what not to say, and as long as the trigger isn't directed towards you, you won't be in any danger. Like I said, I hate leaving it like this, but right now we don't have any options."  
  
He inclined his head, agreeing with her. "Do you want me to walk you down to Headquarters?"  
  
"No. No sense in both of us being miserable. Go back to your quarters, and sleep. Tell Trowa if he tries to wake you up, I'll make it a criminal offence and have him thrown in the brig. Do we even have a brig?"  
  
He laughed weakly. "Sort of. I'll tell him, but I doubt it'll be necessary, he'll just have to take one look at me and he'll know I'm tired."  
  
Suddenly, Corinne stopped their progress towards the door. Looking deeply into his eyes, she asked the one question he wished she wouldn't have.  
  
"How are things going between the two of you?"  
  
Not knowing what to say, and being far to tired to get into it, he shrugged his shoulders. "We still need to talk things over, but we're getting there. Let's save this for another day though, Corinne, I'm far too exhausted to think about it all right now, and I know you're too exhausted to listen."  
  
She smiled. "You're probably right. We'll discuss it during another session, but I'm worried about you, I want you to know that."  
  
"And I appreciate it, but I don't want to get into it right now."  
  
"You're lucky I'm too tired to argue with you."  
  
"I know."  
  
They separated at the door, Corinne heading towards Lady Une's office, he heading towards a warm bed. His feet dragged as he shuffled down the hallway, too drained by the rawness of the emotions he'd had to deal with.  
  
With Corinne he'd tried his best not to act as if the past two days had effected him, but that was simply untrue. His mental shields were in rubbles, shifted to cover the precious link he shared with Trowa, pulling away from other areas of his mind to protect his lover.  
  
He was tired, exposed, exhausted, and just plain drained of all his energy. He felt he would burst into tears at any moment, weep his pain at the drop of a hat. So much had happened, and with the barely covered emotions of terror from his unknown childhood experience, it was a wonder he wasn't hiding under a table somewhere.  
  
Chuckling weakly at the thought, he resigned himself to simply hiding under the covers. He'd leave a quick note to Trowa, not to wake him until sometime tomorrow and then climb between the warm blankets and let his mind do a self-sweep as he slept. Reaching his door, he slowly punched in the pass code, his body almost too tired to even lift his hand.  
  
He had the foresight to notice the slip on the door, he had a package.  
  
As the door opened, and he got the first sight of his home, he felt his last remaining shields crumble to dust. He could feel the empathic storm rising, and desperately he grabbed at his heart to hold the pain inside. It was too much, just too much.  
  
In front of him, in bold letters and cheerful script was a banner, strung across the living room. An announcement, a birth announcement.  
  
"IT'S A BOY!"  
  
Everywhere he looked were baby things. A changing table rested in front of the couch. The baby dresser he remembered from his youth was backed up against one wall, the solid oak finish shining in the sun from the windows. A baby cradle sat in the middle, and softly as it rocked back and forth, the sound of cooing could be heard from it. And all around him were toys, toys for every age, from infant to toddler, to childhood wonder. Boxes and boxes of toys were piled ceiling high all over the apartment. The ones on the floor, not in boxes, he recognized, they'd belonged to him.  
  
He heard their voices like screeching sirens.  
  
"You only have five months left for a natural birth."  
  
"A genetic takes half the time, Quatre."  
  
"You want to be a father some day, don't you?"  
  
"If a child is the only way to save our fortune then you'd better do your job and have one!"  
  
"I don't care if it goes against every principle you've ever had in your pathetic life, you will have a child, and you will deliver us from this crisis!"  
  
"It's a child for god's sake, not a business partner, what's the big deal?!"  
  
"You're so worthless, Quatre! All you have to do, all you absolutely have to do, is fuck some woman or jack-off into a cup! How hard is that?!"  
  
"It's just a child, you can do that, it's about money, Quatre, not about the child. The child is nothing more than an inconvenience."  
  
And then he heard his own voice, as he'd talked to Trowa on a night long ago.  
  
"Someday, when we're ready, we'll start a family. A cute genetic on your side. She'll have dark brownish red curls and bright green eyes. Oh Trowa, she'll look just like you, I know she will. Or a boy, a lengthy boy you'll teach all the tricks of the circus trade too. He'd learn back flips and summersaults, and how to walk the tightrope, at least from you. From me, I'd teach him about music and even my company. But I wouldn't force it on him, not like me, I'd let him decide for himself, what exactly he wanted to be. We'll be good parents, great parents someday. You'll see Trowa, you'll see, someday."  
  
And then later, much later.  
  
"What if it never happens Trowa? What if I can never have children with a clear conscious? What if for the rest of my life, anytime I look at a child of mine, I wonder, 'Did I do it for the money?' God Trowa, how could my father do this to me?"  
  
".no.please no.don't do this.anything but this."  
  
He couldn't think, couldn't move, he just stared at the piles and piles of baby things and felt his heart ripped from his heaving chest. Anything but this, anything but the reminder of the one thing he wanted more in the entire world than anything else, but could never have, would never have. A child, a child of his own body, a son or daughter with his hair or eyes. The one thing all the money in the world could never buy him. He would not trade a child's life for a fortune, and in so refusing, condemned himself. A child, it was the one thing he'd never have of his own, and the one thing he secretly craved, maybe even more than Trowa. To be a father, to hold a child in his arms and know half of himself rested in him or her. It was too much, anything but this.  
  
He felt his mind swirl with self-hatred and contempt as he desperately moved against the wall, blindly searching for the com unit. The agony was so over powering, the storm building through his system, crippling. He tripped the last of the way, harsh sobs retched from his throat as he pressed desperately at the controller.  
  
When he heard it beep, he struggled with consciousness for one last cry for help before the storm overtook him.  
  
"Trowa.help me."  
  
* * *  
  
He had to pick up the children.  
  
Sally had taken the day off to finish the last of her Christmas crises and had graciously offered to take Shingam and Killashandra with her. She'd had to promise ice cream and new toys before Shingam had agreed to leave Quatre's sights. The boy was clinging to Quatre more and more, and Trowa could tell that Killashandra was doing the same.  
  
Trowa wasn't stupid, he knew what was coming. Quatre was completely attached to these two children, they all were, and he was no exception. He was counting the days until Quatre suggested they adopt the two. He wasn't quite sure how he felt about it.  
  
He was only twenty-one, in this advanced day and age, most people didn't start having children until their thirties. He and Quatre were so young, and Trowa couldn't help but wish he could have a little bit more time with Quatre, alone. But all he had to do was look into Killashandra's eyes before he melted completely.  
  
The four year old, might not have yet talked, but she'd somehow managed to find a place so directly in his heart that he had no choice but to snuggle her close when he read to her, or brushed her hair lovingly in the morning. He knew he was falling in love with her, and if he were honest with himself, he already was. Quatre had once said that a couple should have children when the love they had for each other was so large they just had to share it with another. Perhaps that time was now.  
  
He knew what he'd say when Quatre finally asked him, he'd say yes. He'd open his arms and love two children that desperately needed a family, because Quatre wanted them, and so did he.  
  
But with that knowledge came absolute fear. Not a day went by that he didn't fear he'd become somehow angered by the children. Not a day went by that he didn't fear becoming all he'd known of a father. And Trowa knew Quatre felt the same way. Both were so afraid of repeating the mistakes of their pasts, of becoming the men they had hated and feared for so many years. What if he hit them, what if he struck Shingam's beautiful face and then couldn't stop? What if? The fear never ended.  
  
So he'd decided. He would agree, but with that agreement had to come his own piece of mind. He knew somewhere deep inside of himself he was capable of hurting them, and he knew-no mater how he wished to deny it-so was Quatre. So they'd continue the therapy, he'd make Quatre promise at least that. If they were prepared to be parents, then they had to be prepared to put their children before themselves, and that meant they needed to have Corinne or someone else, teach them what it meant to be real parents, ones that didn't beat or rape their children into submission.  
  
He startled out of his reverie as a paper airplane hit him on the forehead.  
  
"What?" He looked up at Duo's bemused eyes.  
  
"What'cha thinkin' about tall, dark and weird?"  
  
He rolled his eyes. With Quatre and Corinne in a session to clear out the unstable emotions in Quatre's mind, he'd opted to go to work to avoid worrying the entire day. The other pilots had joined him, lending support and trying their best to keep his mind off it. Duo had been a chatterbox all day, while Heero had beaten the crap out of him in a three hour game of basketball. Wufei had even shown up, not wanting to go with his fiancé to town; he'd opted to keep Trowa company by railing Duo every chance he got. All in all the day had run quickly and Trowa was waiting for Sally to bring the children back before heading home.  
  
"I was thinking I hope Sally returns quickly."  
  
"Why, getting bored of us?" Duo smiled, knowing he'd exasperated his older friend to no end the entire day.  
  
"Duo, let's play a game."  
  
That caught his attention. "A game, ok, what is it?"  
  
He smiled, trap set, sprung and caught! "Let's see how long you can be quiet. Will it be the end of this sentence or maybe-Gods willing-until Sally returns and I leave."  
  
"Fuck you."  
  
"End of sentence."  
  
They all laughed.  
  
Corinne entered just as the sound was dying down. She smiled kindly as Trowa rose to go to her.  
  
"He's fine. We've managed to erect some shields, so that even if he does hear the trigger word, he at least won't kill anyone but himself. I know, small comfort, but it's the best we could do in one day. Trust me, that's more than most could have done in a lot longer than that."  
  
He nodded, not at all happy, but willing to accept the small victory. "So Quatre still can't hear the trigger word."  
  
"That's right. It would be very bad. But he'd have to hear it in the right context for it to work anyway, and I doubt that between now and tomorrow he'll hear it. Especially since he's so exhausted he'll probably sleep until late tomorrow anyway."  
  
"Is he alright?"  
  
She nodded kindly but he could tell she was just as tired as she made Quatre out to be. "Just let him rest. He need to let his mind and body relax, it was a trying day."  
  
He agreed and watched her walk into Lady Une's office before he turned back to see the smiling faces of his friends. "What?"  
  
Heero answered. "Nothing, we're just grateful we don't have to entertain you tomorrow as well."  
  
They laughed, that is until there was an ear splitting scream from Une's office. As one they ran to the door, throwing it open to find Corinne clutching her head, and Lady racing around her desk to find out what was happening. Corinne's face was a twist of absolute pain and horror, and as they watched, she clawed at her hair, threatening to pull in it in her suffering.  
  
Surrounding her, they looked to Une for answers. The woman's face was just as confused as theirs were. "She came in and just started screaming!"  
  
Suddenly it stopped, and breathing hard, Corinne looked terror stricken into Trowa's eyes. "Quatre!"  
  
His world froze. Flashbacks to when he'd first met Corinne assaulted him. She hadn't looked much better as she's calmed the empathic storm from Quatre's mind two months ago; he also registered the same look on her face when Killashandra had had her own brush with the storm.  
  
"What's wrong, Corinne?! What's wrong with, Quatre?!"  
  
He didn't have to wait long to find out. There was a split second warning as the intercom system beeped, before he heard Quatre's sobbing and terror filled voice.  
  
"Trowa.help me."  
  
* * *  
  
If he could have kicked down the door to get in faster, he would have. As it was he had to waste precious seconds plugging in the pass code. As it opened, he and his companions behind him gasped in horror.  
  
All around them were symbols of children. Baby toys, cribs, bottles, and chairs; all arranged around the room to make it look like an over- crowed nursery. A mocking banner hung over the living room, proclaiming loudly that it was a boy.  
  
He swore violently. This had to be Quatre's sisters, there was on one else what would have played such a cruel and tasteless joke.  
  
With desperation borne from knowing that even now Quatre was wrestling in the throws of a storm, he called out Quatre's name in near panic. Likewise, he heard the others call out as well.  
  
"QUATRE!!!"  
  
But their calls went unanswered, and Trowa raced to the other side of the room to look in their bedroom, while Heero tore to the other side to look in the children's room. Nothing, there was no Quatre, and as they called, his blond lover made no sound to direct them to his location.  
  
Panic raced through him as he remember the last time Quatre had been ambushed by his sister Liteea, he didn't dare start to believe that Quatre had run away, he simply couldn't take it.  
  
"Trowa!" He turned to see Corinne, supported by Lady Une, pointing to the back corner of the room. A long tapestry hung in cascades of burgundy fabric, and at the base, curled around the folds of red, huddled a shivering mass of muted sunshine.  
  
Quatre's knees were drawn into his chest as he leaned against the wall. Face hidden in his knees, he rocked back and forth but made no sound. From across the room, as he raced to his lover's side, he could see Quatre overcome with violent shakes.  
  
"Quatre." Softly he knelt down in front of his long time love. He called Quatre's name again, but when no response sounded, he moved his fingertips to brush against Quatre's arms, which were wrapped about his legs.  
  
"DON'T TOUCH ME!!!" Violently, Quatre pulled away from him, crawling into himself and the wall to get away from him.  
  
"Quatre, please. I'm not going to hurt you. It's ok, I'm here now, it's ok." He didn't try to touch his lover again, only held his hands out in a display of peace. Beside him, he felt the air shift as Lady Une helped Corinne to kneel beside him.  
  
Corinne's voice was calm but strained as she spoke softly to Quatre. "It's alright, Quatre. Calm down. I'm going to try and help you calm down now, let me in. Let me help you, Quatre."  
  
There was silence for a moment before he watched the shaking begin to subside in Quatre's huddled frame. He wanted to reach out to him, wanted to take Quatre into his arms and never let him go, protect him from the world, but he couldn't, not this very second. He busied himself by thinking up ways to kill each and every one of Quatre's worthless sisters.  
  
".why?" It was the voice of a broken man, and Trowa felt a part of himself die at hearing that tone yet again from his loving partner.  
  
"Oh, Quatre, I'm so sorry. So sorry."  
  
Blue eyes looked up then, met green, and from their depths fell the tears of a lost angel. Shaken, and crushed, Quatre's silent tears fell, dropping to his pants and staining them with his agony.  
  
".any-anything but-but this. They could have done anything but this." His voice was paced, filled with pain and suffering; nothing but a whisper on the breeze.  
  
"They'll pay for this, Quatre. I swear it, I promise they'll pay for this!" He was so angry, his voice shook with fear for his partner, and rage at the women that would do this to his most treasured lover.  
  
".for them. I did it all for them. Killed, slaughtered, maimed, destroyed my soul for them.for them." Desperate blue pools caught his eye. "I gave them everything that I had. Did everything I could, to give them a world where they'd be free. I sold my soul for them, all for them!" In a sudden twist, Quatre was yelling, nearly screaming hysterically. "Everything that I was I gave for them! I killed tens of thousands of people so they wouldn't need to be afraid! So their children would never be afraid!" And then he was sobbing, large gasps of breath that brought accompanying tears from Trowa as well. "You were the only thing I wanted for myself, the only thing I asked for. I would have done the rest, been the person they wanted me to be, but you, you and the child, the only two things I refused to give up. It wasn't so much to ask for was it, Trowa? Did I ask for too much in return for what I gave up? Did I?"  
  
Blindly he shook his head. "No, Quatre, no, you didn't ask for too much."  
  
The screaming was back. "They why?! How could they do this too me! They know how much I wanted my own child, how desperately I wanted a child of my body! It's all I've ever wanted, ever really wanted! The only thing I wanted! How can they do this? How can they?! How can they taunt me with the one thing in the universe that I can never, ever have!? I'm their brother, Trowa! Their own brother! How can they do this?! How can they treat their own brother who loves them like this?! Why!?" There was such utter despair in Quatre's voice, such pain and betrayal. He wept tears of pain and sorrow as his lover cried, cried for his pain, cried for his suffering.  
  
For it is true, money can buy you almost anything, but it can't buy you everything. Quatre desired the one thing his money could never afford him, a child of his body that did not corrupt his morals, and no means of having one existed that did not.  
  
Broken and sobbing, Quatre finally allowed Trowa to take him into his arms. Sliding up to his lover, he pulled Quatre into his lap, running his long fingers though blonde sunshine, and calling softly to his lover, that it would be alright, he'd make it better, he'd make it alright.  
  
They stayed that way for a long time, Quatre sobbing, while Corinne swept as much of the tangle of emotion away as she could, while he rocked Quatre back and forth.  
  
He noticed Duo shed tears on his friend's behalf, before the long haired boy turned to grab a box of tissue to bring it over to them, stealing one for himself first. He never made it that far. Hitting one of the stacked boxes, a holographic imager fell to the floor and began to play its recorded message.  
  
Fallen to the side, so it looked like she was floating horizontally above the floor, Liteea Winner held a cruel smile on her face. Her words chilled him to the bone.  
  
"Merry Christmas, Quatre." In a sick display, that was all the message said, and on some form of repeat, it said it over and over again. Liteea's twisted visage mocking the season of love with this gift of hatred.  
  
He watched helplessly as, as if in slow motion, Quatre's head lifted from its place against his shoulder to take in the image of his demented sister. Duo tried without success to silence the horrible thing, but over and over the message played, mocking them all as Quatre sat motionless in his lap and listened to it.  
  
Finally, Wufei could take no more and stomped on the worthless thing, not stopping until it was a mass of expensive parts and nothing more. The silence in its wake was defending. They watched Quatre, watched as he did nothing but stare at the space his sisters visage had been. Trowa noted with fear that Quatre barely breathed.  
  
Suddenly the door opened, and Sally walked in, her cheerful demeanor instantly gone as she took in the scene before her. Behind her, Shingam and Killashandra walked in, their eyes finding him and Quatre without hesitation.  
  
Shingam moved to run to them, but as he took off, Heero's strong arms caught him and he held the struggling boy tightly, giving Trowa the time he still needed to reach Quatre.  
  
But in the shuffle, he'd missed it. Missed Quatre's tell tale signs, before his slight lover shifted, then stood and moved from his lap.  
  
"Quatre?" But the blonde didn't seem to hear him. Instead he moved like a condemned man, feet dragging as he moved to look over the objects that invaded their home. When he finally spoke it was too no one in particular.  
  
"They'll never understand. Maybe I shouldn't either. My father made it so easy. Donate a little sperm and five months later there was one more Winner mouth to feed. He made it seem so effortless; and I always knew that was the way I was supposed to feel about it. Men weren't supposed to care about womanly things like babies. But I did. I cared. I wanted a child so badly, a child of my body, to hold and protect, to love and comfort, to be to it, everything I'd ever wanted my father to be to me. I wasn't supposed to care about children, but I did, I do. I want a child of my own, so very, very badly." The agony of Quatre's words touched their souls, as Trowa rose and went to his partner.  
  
"You understand don't you, Trowa. A child of my own body, without guilt, without he or she ever wondering if I did it to save my company. A child of my own to know I gave them life, part of myself out of such overpowering and immense love. You understand, don't you?"  
  
Solemnly he nodded. "Yes, Quatre. Yes, I understand."  
  
His partner started to sob in ernest again. "They why can't they! Why can't they understand that it's killing me! That I die a little bit everyday because of the will, because thanks to my father no child of mine will ever feel as if they weren't a means to an end! And because of that, because of that I'll never have my own children! I'll never have my family! That all of this," he swung his arms wildly around the room. "Is the worst betrayal of all they could have committed against me!" And then Quatre collapsed into his chest, clinging to him desperately. "Why Trowa? Why do they hate me so much, that they'd kill me in this slow torturous way? What did I do to make them hate me so, so much? All I did was protect them, and all I asked for in return was you, just you. Why?"  
  
He had no answers to give.  
  
* * *  
  
Through the fog of his agony, Quatre could feel Corinne's weak efforts to finish the sweep. He tried his best to help her along, but for the most part he simply existed, wondering over and over in his mind if the pain would ever stop, if the betrayal would ever end.  
  
Safe in Trowa's arms, he'd asked all the right questions, but like he knew he didn't, Trowa had no answers to give. He buried his face in Trowa's chest, hoping to escape the sight of all his baby things, and the loneliness and hopelessness they brought.  
  
He was startled with the rest of them, when a mechanical voice said loudly, "YOU'RE A PRETTY GIRL!"  
  
It drew his eyes from the darkness to see Killashandra, hand poised to touch the button again, staring at a baby mirror that hung from the side of the crib. He remembered the toy. A small glowing button at the top beckoned to be pressed, and when it was, it would make the same comment over and over, "YOU'RE A PRETTY BOY!, or, YOU'RE A PRETTY GIRL!"  
  
As they watched, Killa pressed the button and was startled just a little by the loud voice that again professed her beauty. And then in a show of her first real emotion, Killashandra turned to face him, eyes wide with wonder and happiness. It wasn't a smile, not by any means, but her eyes held a real look of emotion in them, and Quatre found himself drawn from his own pain and into her childlike wonder.  
  
Just as quickly as it had come, she turned to look at the mirror and again pressed the button. Over and over she pressed it, the new expression in her eyes not wavering once. And like men forced to watch but not participate, too stunned to do anything, they let her continue.  
  
Finally, Shingam-whom Heero had put down only moment's before Killa's discovery-went to stand beside his small friend. "Killa, Quatre's really sad now, so we need to be really quiet."  
  
But Killashandra ignored him and depressed the button yet again. And Shingam was unfazed. He himself moved to a rocking horse that stood close to the mirror. With questioning hand, he pushed at the wooden horse before stepping back as it rocked towards him. When he looked up at Quatre he had the same wondering and nervous look in his eye as Killa had had.  
  
"Quatre, what kind of training devise is this?"  
  
And suddenly, his pain wasn't important anymore. He watched the two children look at toys he'd taken for granted as a child, watched their eyes fill with wonder at the simple inventions. Looking around the room, he was treated to a sight he didn't think he'd ever see; a room filled with baby things, things that didn't matter. He felt his mind shift into place, and heard Corinne's startled exclamation as her work was suddenly no longer needed.  
  
So he'd never have a baby of his own, so he'd never have children of his body, did it matter? Did it really and truly matter? A child from his body or another, what difference did it make? A child was a child, and he had two perfectly beautiful examples standing in awe right before his eyes.  
  
He felt Trowa tighten his grip on him as his shoulders relaxed, and he looked at his long time partner with such love and understanding that Trowa visibly blinked at the change in him. He nuzzled the underside of Trowa's chin once, before moving to kneel between the two inquisitive children.  
  
"It's not a training device, Shingam, it's just a toy. It's funny, the mirror Killa's playing with, and this rocking horse were the only two toys my mother purchased for me before she died. As a child, they were my two favorite toys." Killa continued to depress the glowing button, but Shingam, turned to him, a questioningly look on his face.  
  
"Quatre, it's ok that Killa and I touch them, isn't it?"  
  
He smiled. "Yes, it's ok. In fact, I'm glad you're playing with them. It's such a waste for them to have no one to love them. If I were to give these toys to you and Killashandra, would you both promise to take really extra special good care of them?"  
  
Shingam nodded enthusiastically before, hesitating. "But Quatre, don't you want to give the toys to your little boy and girl?"  
  
So innocent and unassuming. "I think I just did." And Quatre hugged him; wrapped Shingam up into his arms and held the boy close. He stood, turned to look at Trowa's face, and saw all he needed to know. Trowa agreed. These children were theirs now.  
  
He felt the huge smile grow across his face, and he set Shingam on the rocking horse before moving to stand beside Trowa. There was concern still in Trowa's eyes, but also understanding. The timing could have been better, but it didn't matter, this is what they needed, what the children needed. They were a match, and while it wouldn't be easy, Trowa's eyes said he was determined to make it work.  
  
A joyful laugh fell from his lips as he threw himself at Trowa. His taller partner felt that feeling as well, that sense of completeness, as he lifted Quatre up and swung him around, the two of them laughing and giggling at the newness of being parents.  
  
But the joyfulness couldn't last, not when the Winner sisters set out to destroy their brother.  
  
In a shattering cry, the sound of a wailing baby could be heard, and Quatre swung around, desperate to find the sound and silence it. He couldn't explain the emotions. One minute he was overjoyed at learning the two children would soon be his and Trowa's, the next the burnt out despair was upon him again, all at the sound of some unknown baby's cry.  
  
He pushed his way out of Trowa's arms, and raced across the room. Throwing the covers out of the cradle, he came face to face with a scene from his most horrifying nightmare. As he began to scream, he noted absently that whoever had done the molding had done an excellent job, the face of the baby AI looked exactly like him.  
  
* * *  
  
Trowa barely had time to register the blanket flying before he heard Quatre begin to scream. It was a sound he'd never heard before, so filled with horror that it rivaled even the sound he'd heard over the vid as the mad psychiatrist had brutalized his partner.  
  
With lightening fast reflexes he raced to Quatre's side. He took a quick look at the thing in the crib and blanched before swinging Quatre away from the sight and tucking him as soundly as he could in his arms.  
  
The child was obviously suppose to look like Quatre, blonde hair and blue eyes, its face had been molded to look just like him. But this child's face was wrong, painted on bruises and lacerations covered its face, and the upper body Trowa had glimpsed before he'd pulled his lover away.  
  
The message was clear, and Trowa tried in vain to quiet his lover. But Quatre continued to scream, a horrible sound that gripped them all. His voice broached no argument as he shouted.  
  
"Heero! Wufei! Get that thing out of here, now!" As they moved to comply, Duo grabbed the children with Sally's help and moved them to the couch. Desperately, he tried to calm Quatre down, tried to ease his lovers fears. "It'll be alright Quatre. Shhhhhh. Little One, you'd never hurt your own child, never. Oh Quatre, shhhhhhh. You'd never hurt our children, never. Shhhhhhh."  
  
Minutes were like hours as Wufei and Heero moved all of the furniture and toys out of the apartment to sit in the hallway. The banner was the last thing to come down, and he himself had to retrieve it because it was so high up.  
  
Lady Une made a few calls and found out that an outside vendor had come in to arrange for a present that was thought too elaborate for the guards to arrange. A call to the vendor revealed they'd been led to believe the present was from some loving sisters who had realized their brother was going to be a father. It wasn't anyone's fault, no one's except Quatre's sisters.  
  
Quatre's eyes were vacant as he sat shivering on the couch. Sally had given him a sedative only a moment before, the effects just starting to work. As Trowa sat down, Quatre curled into him, begging for the comfort he so desperately needed.  
  
Trowa stroked his hair and talked calmly to him. Softly reassuring him that everything was going to be alright.  
  
Nearly an hour after it had all begun, Quatre shifted before standing. Trowa tried to grab for him but Quatre shied away.  
  
"Don't."  
  
Slowly and with deliberate care, Quatre walked to the vid and entered a com call code. The next thing any of them knew, a man in a very formal business suit was on the vid.  
  
"Good evening, Mr. Winner. How may I help you?"  
  
Quatre's voice was dead, his eyes haunted, and the man on the screen looked alarmed.  
  
"If you are not loyal to me, Jacob, go and find me someone that is. I wish to talk about my sisters."  
  
A dark expression filtered across the man-Jacob's-face, before he answered. "What has my wife done this time, Mr. Winner?"  
  
Any other time, Quatre would have joked with the man, Trowa was certain of that, but as they watched in silence, Quatre merely shook his head.  
  
"Too much to be forgiven. I need financial advice, Jacob, can you give me impartial financial advice?"  
  
Jacob nodded. "Mr. Winner, I was in the services of your father for a very long time, and I learned early on not to allow my personal feelings to interfere with business. What can I help you with?" There was a strange note in the man's voice, and Trowa realized quickly that the personal feelings were about Quatre. The man liked Quatre, and working for the man that had beat him must have been hard for Jacob.  
  
Quatre nodded. "Bring up my sisters' portfolios. Everything they bought using Winner money, everything my father bought for them over the years, display it on a side bar panel." In less than a minute, Liteea Winner's stock portfolio was flashing across the screen. Billions of dollars in investments flashed in a litany of zeros. Quatre's voice was devoid of emotions as he spoke. "How much of that is stock in WEI?"  
  
Jacob paused to look. "Roughly forty-five percent. You're father believed in playing it safe." Quatre nodded.  
  
"How much in total? What's she worth?" There was a strange way he said that, and Trowa stood when he figured out what was off about it. Quatre had asked as if Liteea herself was nothing but property.  
  
"At current market value, nearly five billion credits."  
  
"Exactly how many individual shares does she own. I want the exact number of total shares."  
  
Another pause, then, "One million, seven hundred thousand, eight hundred and thirty three shares."  
  
Quatre nodded coldly, Trowa moved to stand behind him. "Do the same for each of my sisters, I'll wait on the line for the numbers. Read me their names and their worth just like you did for Liteea."  
  
For the next twenty minutes, Jacob listed mass quantities of numbers, billions of credits in investments. When he'd finished, Quatre was smiling.  
  
"As I've already been told, I can make no purchasing power over the sum of one billion credits until my twenty-first birthday. Therefore I couldn't possible buy my sisters' portfolios' at fair market value. But their shares were bought with WEI money, and therefore belong to me." So cold and calculating, Trowa put both of his hands on Quatre's shoulders in comfort and warmth.  
  
"Jacob, buy them out. I want their portfolio's on my desk in the morning. Everything they thought they owned is mine, has always been mine, just like they are. They forgot who was the puppet master here!"  
  
Trowa tried to reason with him, find out more importantly, what he was doing.  
  
"Quatre-"  
  
"Hush! Now isn't the time!" Dismissed, Trowa waited nervously. He hazard a look at the others, their expressions similar to his own.  
  
"You're right that you can't buy them out at fair value, just as your correct in that technically their shares do belong to WEI. But Mr. Winner, if you can't buy them out at fair-"  
  
"They no longer deserved to be treated fairly, I've tried that, it doesn't work. If they insist on bringing this family down, then I will be the one to strike the final blow. I am my father's son, after all.  
  
"For every share that they own, they will be give a single credit. I don't care what the value was, they're lucky I'm giving them anything at all! A single credit for every share they own. Liteea's five billion credit portfolio will be nothing more than one point five million credits when the check arrives in time for Christmas breakfast. The same goes for all my sisters! Buy them all out, and put the money in a sheltered investment, then arrange for it to be given as a gift, the total will be well below my one billion credit limit. Put the stocks in an account for Trowa Barton. Make sure the account's untraceable. Send me the information I need to access it by tomorrow."  
  
Suddenly Quatre turned in his arms, a large and very sane smile on his face. There seemed to be a measure of relief there, as if in this one act, he felt as if he'd put things to rights. "I hope you don't mind Trowa. I did promise to make money a non issue for us in the future, but now that we've got a family to think about, well, I'd just feel better knowing we have more than just you and I need."  
  
He nodded dumbly. "I think that'll be more than enough."  
  
And Quatre beamed. "Yes, I agree. We'll have no problem caring for the children with just the dividends. After all, that's what my sisters were living off of all this time anyway."  
  
Then a strange expression crossed Quatre's face, and Trowa wasn't at all convinced of his partners sanity. "No, that won't do. That just won't do at all."  
  
Turning back towards the vid he regarded Jacob for a moment before speaking. "I've heard tale that my sister Cijen, stood against my sisters in my defense. Do you know anything about that, Jacob?"  
  
Carefully the man nodded. "Liteea mentioned it at the dinner table, yes. Sekurra went through the roof. I understand my daughter was there only a little while ago."  
  
So this was Liteea's husband, Sekurra's father. Now that he looked at the man, it made sense, Sekurra looked a bit like him in fact. The girl had at least taken her father's attitude and disposition instead of her mother's, it would seem.  
  
Quatre nodded. "Yes, she did. She was the one that told me in fact. Jacob, I wish to amend my instructions. Do exactly what I've asked, but do not touch Cijen's stocks. I have questions that need answering before I decide what to do about her.  
  
"One more thing. When the checks are delivered to my sisters, I wish a note to be attached. It will read simply: 'Merry Christmas, Quatre.' Understand?"  
  
Jacob nodded, and the call was disconnected. Later that night, after everyone had gone home, and Quatre had lain slumbering in his arms, the fax machine had sounded. The message on the sheet, "Done. Merry Christmas, Master Winner." Trowa didn't miss the reference to Quatre's father. 


	23. Chapter 23

He struggled to awaken, feeling warm and secure; feelings he hadn't felt in a long time. Against his back, Quatre felt fingers dance, idly moving back and forth in a gesture that was both comforting and tickling. He nuzzled the warm solid chest he laid against, and sighed deeply when he felt Trowa kiss his hair.  
  
"How do you feel?"  
  
He smiled blindly before stretching and settling in. "Warm, safe, and still very sleepy."  
  
Above him, Trowa chuckled. "Good, wouldn't want you to be sleepy and cold at the same time."  
  
They laughed for a moment, before Quatre decided it was time to sit up. Raising his head, he took in the beautiful sight of Trowa's sleep tousled form. His hair was a disheveled mess, but his eyes were bright and cheerful.  
  
"Good morning." He said; Trowa chuckled. "Merry Christmas.um Eve."  
  
"I don't think you're supposed to celebrate Christmas Eve."  
  
Disgruntled, Quatre dropped his elbows and allowed his body to crash on top of Trowa's. "If not, then why's Duo having a party?"  
  
"I think it's most likely because if he had a party on Christmas day, no one would come."  
  
"We'd come."  
  
"We don't celebrate Christmas."  
  
"Oh."  
  
Together they laughed; the sound was beautiful and at once peaceful, sending Quatre's high spirits even higher. With soft fingertips, Trowa traced the lines of Quatre's face. Leaning into the touch, Quatre mewed softly for his lover to continue.  
  
In time, Trowa broached the unfortunate subject. "You got a fax last night." He closed his eyes and nodded. "Do you want to see it?"  
  
"Just tell me what it said."  
  
Trowa took a deep breath. "'Done. Merry Christmas, Master Winner.' That's what it said. There was a single piece of paper that explained the codes needed to access the account."  
  
Quatre nodded, snuggling closer at the sudden chill he felt. "Trowa? Do you think I did the right thing?"  
  
Sudden strong arms pulled Quatre so he was half lying on top of Trowa, while long fingers danced comfortingly across his back. "You did the only thing you could have. They weren't going to stop. I'm glad you stood up for yourself."  
  
Quatre smiled. "Finally. You forgot to put 'finally' at the end of that sentence."  
  
Trowa grinned, caught. "Maybe, but I've learned it's best not to antagonize you."  
  
A lingering fear passed over Quatre and he had to know what Trowa thought. "What-what about Cijen? Did I do the right thing by not including her with the others?"  
  
Trowa was silent for a moment as he considered. "I have a new.respect for your sister. Since watching that vid, seeing how she protected you, I have to feel a sense of thanks for the ways she took care of you. If the things Sekurra said are true-which I think they are-then Cijen was doing little more than what Catherine did all those years ago when you tried to take me from the circus." Quatre tensed in his arms, and Trowa noticed, rubbing his back soothingly. "I didn't mean to upset you, but do you understand? It's like I saw the things she was doing from a different perspective-her perspective-and I understood. She wanted the best for you. I saw Koeran on the vid and I understand why she approved of him. Up until only a little while ago, Quatre, I wasn't even capable of taking care of myself, not really. Cijen must have seen that, and compared to Koeran, I didn't really measure up."  
  
"Trowa, that's not true. It's not even fair to compare you and Koeran. You're roles were entirely different. I was being taken care of by Koeran, but I was the one taking care of you. If anything Cijen should have compared you and I, then at least it would have been fair."  
  
"No, Quatre. I'm the one that's taking care of you now, and it's a fair comparison, I'm just afraid that even now, I don't quite measure up. That's not a plea for praise or reassurance, just the honest truth."  
  
And what could Quatre say? Trowa didn't compare to Koeran, he couldn't-the two men were made of entirely different things. Koeran had been built to command and lead, Trowa had been designed to sneak and follow. They weren't the same, should never be compared as the same, and yet poor Trowa thought that they had to be, that he needed to measure up to a man he could never measure against. It was like apples and oranges, husbands and wives.  
  
"Trowa," he had to say something to quell the insecurities he knew Trowa was experiencing. "I'm not the best person to remain impartial about such things. I loved Koeran as much as I could, as much as a boy-man could. But you I love as a man, a partner for life. The both of you were what I needed you to be when I needed you to be them. I've been very lucky, extremely lucky. I had Koeran when I needed protection, and I have you now, when I need to protect."  
  
There, he'd said it, would Trowa understand?  
  
His lover looked down at him, a faint look of confusion in his eyes before Quatre shifted his away to take in the.setting sun?  
  
"Trowa? What time is it?" He swung around to look at the clock just as Trowa began to chuckle. The display read eight fifteen, and he breathed a sigh of relieve until he remembered the sun had been setting.  
  
Suddenly he sat bolt up right and looked incredulously down at Trowa. "Trowa, it's after eight o'clock! I slept the whole day away." His partner only laughed and nodded his head. "Why didn't you wake me?"  
  
"You needed your sleep. Killa's empathic storm last week, those newly discovered terror emotions from your childhood, and then the empathic storm you had last night, Quatre you could hardly blame me for killing anyone that tried to wake you up today."  
  
And Quatre smiled tiredly before lying back down on Trowa's chest, letting his lover soothe the memories. "I guess I was tired. You didn't stay in bed with me all day, did you?"  
  
Trowa shook his head, but Quatre didn't see it. "I got up earlier and took the kids to Duo and Heero's, they're there now. I checked the fax and then grabbed a bite to eat before coming back to bed. Don't feel too bad. Killashandra got wiped by the storm as well; she slept later than Shingam, and when I woke up at three, Corinne still hadn't checked in. All the empaths on base got the day off thanks to you, and I think they may be throwing you a party, but not until their headaches stop, Sally's been treating them all day."  
  
He groaned. "Oh great, one guy has a bad day and the whole place shuts down."  
  
"It was more than just a bad day, Quatre. It was horrible what they did to you."  
  
Knowingly, Quatre agreed with a nod of his head. "I guess I just wish my personal problems would stop affecting everyone! I'm turning out to be more trouble than the terrorists we're supposed to be fighting against. And I know what my sisters did was bad, I'm just trying to forget about it. I wish I could just erase it from my memory." He smiled at Trowa, letting him know he was only kidding. "So what happened to all my things?" He purposefully didn't ask about the AI, he hoped someone had the decency to destroy it, or mail it back to his sisters.  
  
"Heero and Wufei moved them into storage after Sally knocked you out last night. They're there if you ever want to look at them. I had them keep the mirror and the rocking horse for Shingam and Killashandra, but if you'd like I'll have them taken away before you see them."  
  
He shook his head. "No, I gave them to the children. They really were special to me as a child, being the only toys my mother had acquired for me before her death."  
  
Hesitantly, Trowa spoke. "I don't think I've ever asked before. How did your mother die, Quatre?"  
  
He smiled painfully into Trowa's chest. "Cancer. All the medical breakthroughs in the last two hundred years still haven't eradicated that stupid mutation of our own genes. My sisters told me-Cijen told me-that my mother was very kind to all my sisters, but had taken a special liking to her. She told me my mother was bedridden towards the end of my tube cycle, but that my mother had talked non-stop about how beautiful I would be, how smart and brave." He laughed. "Cijen said some of my sisters were even jealous of me before I was born. I guess my mother asked Cijen to take extra special care of me, and that we were special brother and sister, special because we had to look out for each other. It's rather tragic, but I guess my father brought me in so my mother could see me right after I was born; she died less than five minutes later. It's nice to think she got to see me once. I wish I could remember her."  
  
Softly, Trowa rubbed his back. "Thank you for telling me."  
  
He nodded, not trusting his voice for a moment. Trowa noticed and they laid in silence for a while, simply resting in each other's presence.  
  
Eventually Quatre giggled at a remembrance. "You know, when you were telling me how you'd already gotten up, you said you'd 'taken the kids to Duo and Heero's'. Do you realize how you said that, 'the kids'? Has it hit you yet, Trowa? We're going to be parents. I mean, we are, parents, that is. It seems right somehow, doesn't it? After the holidays I can have my lawyers draw up all the paperwork. The formal adoption will probably take a little while, but until then I can have us listed as their legal guardians."  
  
But Trowa didn't seem excited and as Quatre looked up, he saw the troubled look in Trowa's eye. Fear settled over him, but he knew they both had to agree or this wouldn't work. "Trowa? Have-have you changed your mind?"  
  
Trowa looked startled for a moment, before shaking his head and offering a weak smile. "I haven't changed my mind. As long as it's within my power to give you what you want, you know I'll try and honestly, I like the idea of raising them both, but there are things we still need to talk about."  
  
"Like what?"  
  
His lover took a deep breath, and Quatre found he was holding his own. "To anyone normal, this would sound like a strange request, but I think it's safe to say neither of us are normal." Trowa waited for Quatre's nod. "I figured you'd eventually ask me to adopt the children, and that's fine. I wish we were a little bit older, but you can't always decide these things. But Quatre, neither one of us had a healthy childhood, and I won't allow our children to be subjected to demons from our pasts." The unspoken words were there, Trowa didn't want them to beat or rape their own children.  
  
"Oh Trowa, we could never be like our parents-and I use that term loosely. We're smarter than that, and we know how bad it is." But Trowa was shaking his head.  
  
"I looked it up. Do you know how many abused children grow up to be abusive parents? The numbers are staggering and I refuse to allow any possibility that it could happen to us, or our children."  
  
"What do you suggest?"  
  
Trowa was quiet for a moment before continuing. "Counseling. Parenting classes for sure. Besides what we've read in good stories we have no idea what it really means to be good parents. But we have to find out, Quatre. Our children will only have the best and that means from us too. We've already figured out that we play uncle fairly well, but can we play dad? I don't know."  
  
Quatre hugged him then, wrapped Trowa in strong arms and held on tightly. "You're the most wonderful, giving, caring, and loving man I've ever known. There isn't anyone in the world I'd rather raise two beautiful children with. I agree. We could go to the classes on the base, one of the parents runs it. Lady Une mentioned it a little while ago as a passing thought. I'm sure we could get tons of advice there, not to mention hear how other parents are dealing with problems. As to the other stuff, we'll have to believe in our selves, believe that we'll do what's best for Killa and Shingam, but beyond that I think you're right. Both of us should talk with someone specifically about this, really get into the deep dark places in our past and beat the shit out of those skeletons." He and Trowa laughed, a happy sound that lifted Quatre's spirits.  
  
"You know, we can't confuse them anymore. If we're going to be parents we'd better start acting like parents."  
  
"What do you mean?" He looked down at Trowa, perplexed.  
  
"Well unlike Marieminna, most children call their parents by titles, like father or dad. What do you think?"  
  
Quatre smiled and laughed. "You mean which title do I want? What about you? Will you take, Dad, or how about Daddy? I can just see Shingam calling you Daddy."  
  
Trowa smiled but shook his head. "The French term for father will be just fine for me. Papa. I think I make a decent, Papa."  
  
He nodded. "I think you look excellent as a Papa. I guess I'll stick with Father. There's something therapeutic about allowing the children to call me that. Maybe it's unhealthy, but to know that I took my father's title and am going to be a hundred times better than he was at it, well, it just makes me happy." He felt those fingers return to his back and he arched his spine to get more contact.  
  
"They'll say we're only children ourselves."  
  
"Let them say whatever they want, we've never listened to them before, why start now."  
  
"Just checking."  
  
* * *  
  
"There you are, Quatre! Shingam and Killa have been worried about you, but I told them not to worry, that Trowa was taking care of you!" Marieminna was already in his arms as he entered Duo and Heero's living room and was surrounded by dozens of soldiers and technicians.  
  
"Is that so? Well, I'd better find Shingam and Killa then." He turned to smile at Trowa who had placed a warm arm about his shoulder and tickled Marieminna under her chin. "By the way sweetheart, when did you get back? And where's you're mom?"  
  
"I got back really late last night, but Wufei picked me up. Mom's in some really important meeting. Wufei told me that Zechs called last night and Mom's been in the office since then. I tried to go have lunch with her today, but she said she really, really had to concentrate. That was ok, because Wufei took me to lunch in town, and then we went to play on the jungle gym in the garden before he took me back to my room to get dressed for the party. But guess what! I got to go early, and Duo took me and Shingam and Killa to church with him and I got to see a real mass! It was really neat! Wufei didn't go 'cause he's not Catholic, but that's ok 'cause he stayed with Heero. I had a lot of fun and so did Shingam and Killa, we were really quiet too!" It was two hours past her bedtime, and she was probably high on sugar and candy canes. So much energy, Quatre wished he could tap into for just a moment.  
  
"Well, it sounds like you've had a busy day."  
  
"Yep!"  
  
"There you guys are! I thought we were going to have to party without you!" Duo moved from a group of people he'd been talking with to hug Quatre soundly.  
  
"Fashionably late." He smirked at Duo. "Anyway, what's this I hear? You took my children to mass?" It was only a joke, but at once Duo looked worried and immediately sorry and regretful.  
  
"Hey, Quatre, I'm sorry about that. I didn't think it was a big deal. But Heero needed sometime to get ready, and I had to go to church tonight anyway, and the kids were already with me.gosh, I didn't think you'd mind."  
  
Hurriedly, he rushed to fix the mistake. "No, no! It's fine. I was only teasing. Actually, Trowa and I haven't had much of a chance to talk about it yet, but I'd really like them both exposed to numerous religions, that way they can make their own choices. In fact, I'd be grateful if you'd teach them a little bit about Christianity; maybe Heero could even teach them about Buddhism, or Wufei about Taewism. I want them to learn about the Islamic religion, but I want them to have choices."  
  
Duo smiled, but strangely his smile held a look of pain and silent suffering. "Hey, don't sweat it. If I had kids I'd do the same thing. Have them baptized Catholic and then run them through the religious gambit of the world. If I had kids."  
  
Quatre felt it immediately, the pain and sorrow radiating off of Duo. He tried to reach out to his friend, was about to say something when Marieminna shifted and he lost his chance as Duo moved away. The next thing he knew Shingam was vying for his attention, Killashandra was begging with body language to be picked-up, and Marieminna was asking if she could have another cookie. When he got the children all settled down, Duo had moved across the room and Trowa was talking quietly with Sally and Wufei.  
  
The next time he managed to find Duo, bringing up the host's personal problems wasn't appropriate. It wasn't until nearly ten o'clock, once all the guest had gone, that he and his friends were able to sit quietly together for a moment.  
  
Shingam and Killashandra were perched on top of his and Trowa's laps, and Killashandra slept peacefully in Trowa's arms. Marieminna sat between himself and Trowa, trying her hardest not to nod off. Sally and Wufei sat close together in one of the loveseats, their hands intertwined together until you couldn't tell whose fingers were whose. And then Duo sat with Heero; Heero's arm thrown carelessly about the back of the couch, Duo leaning slightly into Heero's solid body. Duo had just finished reading the Christmas story, complete with baby Jesus and angel sound effects, and then the poem, "'Twas the Night Before Christmas". Now Duo rested silently and Quatre ached to discern how to help ease his best friend's pain.  
  
Shingam's voice was soft when he spoke to Duo. "I liked the story about baby Jesus. They told that story in church today but it sounded different."  
  
Duo seemed to perk up and he smiled brightly at Shingam's innocent question. "Actually they are different. It depends what Apostle wrote the story, on how it sounds. But the story I read to you is the accepted story of the birth of Jesus Christ."  
  
"Are there more stories about Jesus? He was just a tiny baby and yet he was really important, otherwise why would we be talking about him all this time later, right? He's like Heero Yuy, really important." It was amazing how much Shingam could pick-up, and how well he articulated himself for a five year old.  
  
Duo took it all in stride. "There are tons of stories about Jesus. In fact, Jesus himself told stories as ways of teaching his apostles. He also loved children, little children like you three." He gestured to Marieminna who sat now in rapped attention, Shingam who was likewise, and the sleeping Killa. "Jesus even yelled at his friends once because they tried to keep some children from seeing him."  
  
"Did Jesus have any children?"  
  
Duo's face fell then and his shoulders seemed to slump a little. "No, Jesus didn't have any children. He was killed before he had a chance to have any. He was only thirty-three when he died. Too young, far too young." Duo trailed off, and Heero took on a concerned expression as he pulled Duo more securely into his frame.  
  
Quatre looked at Trowa and saw concern there as well. He wasn't the only one that thought something was wrong with Duo. He would have checked by now, but his mind was so exhausted by all that had happened in the last week that he simply didn't have the energy. He wished he did.  
  
Sally's chipper voice sounded then, drawing attention away from Duo in hopes of lightening the mood and setting Duo to happiness again. "Well, this is probably the last chance we're going to have before New Years to be together quietly and Wufei and I have something to tell you that won't wait until then." She smiled, beaming at Wufei who returned her smile with a secretive one of his own. "You tell them, it's only right." Her smiled didn't fade as all eyes in the room focused on Wufei and the intertwined hands he moved from the couch to his lap, stroking Sally's with his free hand.  
  
The proud man cleared his throat and then smiled adoringly at his fiancé before turning to look pointedly at each of his friends, before looking away almost sheepishly. His voice was soft when he spoke, but there was more pride in Wufei's voice then, than any of them had ever heard him use before, ever.  
  
"Sally is pregnant. We're going to have a baby."  
  
There was silence for a spit second before absolute pandemonium began. Congratulations were handed out across the board and Trowa even handed Killashandra to Quatre so he could hug the two new parents.  
  
Questions were thrown about, and it was soon discovered that Sally had been pregnant for almost two months. That meant that her break down on the tarmac before Wufei had asked her to marry him had been due to raging hormone levels and not just fear and terror. She hadn't known until after Quatre and Trowa had settled things between them. When she'd told Wufei, they'd both agreed to wait to tell everyone because of an old superstition. They'd also decided not to marry until Sally could fit into a wedding dress. Laughingly, Sally had told them, she had no fear of not being married in exactly nine months; Wufei was too honorable to back out of a commitment that entailed their child.  
  
The laughter and good will continued, even after Quatre noticed that Duo did not participate as much as would be expected. He laughed and joked at all the right times, but there was something missing in it all, some part of Duo that wasn't present at this joyous occasion. Quatre noted that Heero also seemed to be hanging back, his arm still about Duo's shoulders, sensing his partners discomfort.  
  
Marieminna giggled in her childlike way. "Does that mean I'm going to get to baby-sit?!"  
  
Sally looked from Wufei, who looked back at her, before she smiled down at the little red haired girl. "Well of course! Who else would we trust? And you've been so good at watching Shingam and Killashandra, we wouldn't dare look anywhere else for a great babysitter."  
  
They continued on, but again Quatre found he couldn't enjoy the occasion as he kept sensing Duo's underlying sadness. Finally, an intercom beeping interrupted them.  
  
"Sally this is Une. Report to my office right away. That's an order." There was a cold steel in Lady's voice and Quatre felt the immediate tension in all of them at hearing it.  
  
"Mom, are you going to come and get me?" Marieminna's voice was quiet; she'd noticed her mom's voice as well.  
  
There was a pause and then, "Wufei, please take Marieminna back to our quarters." That was all, and then the com beeped, and Marieminna looked sullen. Wufei rescued her.  
  
"Come on, Daughter Dragon. I'll practice tucking you in for later." It was so amazing to see this new and sweeter side of Wufei. They'd all assumed he'd be a hard-ass for the rest of his life; it seemed imminent parenthood suited him well. Marieminna nodded and he looked to Sally.  
  
"I'll meet you in Une's office." The mother of his child nodded her head and together they said their good-byes and good nights. Marieminna made Duo promise to wake her up early tomorrow for presents and to see if Santa had eaten the cookies in their private dinning room. Half-heartedly, Duo agreed, and then the new family-plus Marieminna-were out the door, Merry Christmas on their lips. The door was barely closed when Quatre accosted Duo. "What's wrong?"  
  
Stunned at being caught-at his mask failing-Duo tried to laugh it off.  
  
"Wrong? Nothing's wrong, I'm fine. You guys want anything to drink? Still hungry?" With that he was shifting about the room, picking up cups and left over dishes. Busying his hands to keep his mind from working.  
  
Heero stopped him, grabbing the dishes out of his hands before taking him by the shoulders. "I thought you never lied?" His voice was so soft, so sincere. In that moment, Quatre realized that his two friends were connected, perhaps not in the way that he and Trowa were, but no less profound or real.  
  
It was like watching a balloon deflate, Duo just seemed to collapse into Heero's arms. The next thing they knew he was struggling to keep his tears in check. Heero's strong arms wrapped about him securely and tugged him over to the couch where he sat, pulling Duo to rest in his lap.  
  
"What's hurting you, Koi?" Quatre remembered that 'koi' was a Japanese endearment, very personal, and though Heero was making immense progress in expressing his emotions, Quatre had never heard him use any kind of endearment when talking to Duo.  
  
And like the floodgates were lifted, Duo began to sob. Great gasps of breath that shook them all to the core. More than Quatre, more than even Trowa, Duo was abhorred to crying; he'd learned a long time ago, boys don't cry.  
  
But there he was, wrapped tightly in Heero's arms, sobbing his heart out. His voice was broken at best, his sobs making it hard to understand him.  
  
"Not.be like this! We're.first! Quatre.two. Wu--.Sally.one! God.hate this!" Struggling for breath, Duo pulled away from Heero's neck and tried desperately to dry his eyes. Like a mask falling into place, he melted back into a jester.  
  
"Man look at me, I'm a mess. Stupid tears! Man I feel so stupid! I'm just going to go-"  
  
"Sit. Explain." Heero's few words seemed to break through Duo's mask, and again tears were cascading down his face.  
  
He sniffled. "We were supposed to be the first ones. You and me! Now Quatre and Trowa have two kids, Wufei and Sally have one on the way, Hell, even Lady Une beat us too it! I was supposed to have like four kids by now, Heero, four! Does it look like I have any kids? It's fucking Christmas and I bought presents for four children and none of them were ours! I hate it! I hate it! I know we're young, I know that! But look around! Everyone's got kids except us, Heero! Everyone! Even Zechs and Noin! Shit, Treize is dead but he still managed to have a kid! And I'm here, twenty-fucking-one and what do I have to show for it? I've got our four bedroom apartment, a nice car, and you! I just don't-I hate knowing that they all have something we don't."  
  
It was the honest confession of a man who'd been holding onto his feelings for far too long. Duo had always wanted children, always. Half a dozen if he could manage it. To be the last, to know that everyone his age was now starting a family and he wasn't; in the part of his soul that had just cracked and oozed out, he wanted a family of his own, perhaps even more than Quatre.  
  
Holding Duo close and pressing a silent kiss into the bangs that covered his forehead, Heero spoke softly and seriously, but with more compassion then they'd ever heard-it was a night of firsts.  
  
"When we talked before, I failed to notice how much it was hurting you to wait on our family. I was too excited to realize that you even wanted one with me to see that you didn't want to wait. I forced you to postpone and I'm sorry."  
  
Duo interjected. "It's not that Heero. I really was willing to wait. But now it seems like there isn't a point. Everyone we know has kids except us, and I'm so jealous I could die. I mean I took the kids to church today and all I could think was, 'These people think all three of them are mine,' and I couldn't stop grinning. I even made us stay after to show them off! And when I buckled Killa and Shingam into the safety seats, God Heero, I can't explain the longing I felt. I know I'm not being rational, but I can't help it! I know we said we'd wait, but I don't know how much longer I'm going to be able too, especially if everyone but us already has kids." There was desperation in Duo's voice, and Quatre understood, understood better than anyone.  
  
"Boy or girl?" Heero's voice was hard but gentle at the same time, causing Duo to look up at him with confusion.  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"Do you want to have a boy or a girl?" It was so simple for Heero. Quatre could feel Heero's resolve; Duo hurt, that was unacceptable. Duo wanted a child; all that was left was to determine the sex. Duo was Heero's world, and Heero would do anything to make him happy; especially if it was to have a child. Quatre quickly realized that Heero hadn't wanted to wait to have children either, that they'd failed to communicate what they'd both wanted, children, then and now.  
  
Duo's eyes lit up in realization. "You're serious, aren't you?"  
  
"Hai."  
  
"Just like that? You'd make us parents just like that?"  
  
"Hai."  
  
"Why?"  
  
No hesitation.  
  
"Because I love you."  
  
Duo smiled and threw his arms around Heero's neck, before kissing him thoroughly and soundly.  
  
"You want to be a Daddy with me?"  
  
But Heero shook his head, causing Duo's face to fall. Then Heero smiled.  
  
"I want to be Dad. You be Daddy."  
  
Ten minutes later, after much apologizing by Duo and much begging off of apologies by Quatre. He and Trowa returned to their apartment. Together they exchanged party clothes for PJ's and tucked both children into bed, smiling the entire time at how lucky they were to have such beautiful children.  
  
At the door, Quatre heard Shingam's sleepy voice call his name.  
  
"Quatre?"  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Duo and Heero want to have children?"  
  
He smiled. "Yes, Shingam. Very much so."  
  
"Do you think they'll get other children?"  
  
Perplexed he moved back to the bed and tucked a piece of unruly dark brown hair behind Shingam's ear. "They've been talking about adopting for a while now, so I think they'll probably adopt a child. Just like Trowa and I are going to adopt you and Killashandra."  
  
"Why don't they just raise their own child?" Shingam shifted, looking behind him at Trowa who'd moved up to stroke the child's hair. Something in Shingam seemed off, but Quatre was too exhausted to probe, and attributed it too Shingam's hectic day.  
  
"Shingam partners like Duo and Heero, and even Trowa and I can't have our own children. It isn't possible. Science hasn't found a way to do that yet. But I'm sure they'll love the child they adopt just as much as they would their own child."  
  
Weakly Shingam nodded his head before turning and wrapping Killa into a tight hold, burying his face in her curly hair.  
  
Not knowing what had caused Shingam to act so sadly, Quatre figured it had to do with the lateness of his sleep, it being past ten o'clock. He kissed Shingam's head one more time and then moved with Trowa out the door, past the living room and into the bedroom.  
  
"That was strange."  
  
Trowa nodded.  
  
Together they readied for bed before snuggling in together.  
  
Smiling, Quatre stroked Trowa's hair as his head rested against Quatre's chest.  
  
"I can't wait to give you you're present tomorrow. I know you're going to like it."  
  
Trowa chuckled. "You already gave me billions of dollars in stocks, not to mention two beautiful children, and a family. What else could you possibly come up with?"  
  
"You'll see tomorrow."  
  
Trowa laughed. "Good night, Quatre."  
  
"Good night, Beloved."  
  
It was going to turn out to be a very restless Christmas Eve; and as the bells tolled the dawning of Christmas day, their lives were never going to be the same again. 


	24. Chapter 24

At the loud and insistent beeping sound, Trowa mumbled at him. "Turn off." Like a dutiful lover, and the one closest to the alarm clock, he shifted away from Trowa's chest and rolled onto his back only to slam his fist into the clock. The beeping didn't stop. Trowa tried again. "Turn it off, please," he moaned rolling over. Quatre tried again in his sleep addled brain, something kept beeping.  
  
Finally, Quatre sat straight up and looked around the dark room. He glanced at the lit clock display, eleven thirty. Listening intently, he quickly realized the beeping was coming from the communications relay set up for emergencies. Shaking his partner he tried to rouse Trowa.  
  
"Trowa, it's the alarm."  
  
Trowa mumbled. "Too early, turn it off."  
  
Quatre would have chuckled at the cuteness of Trowa when woken up, except this was serious. "Trowa, it's the base alarm."  
  
Instantly, Trowa was awake and sitting up, listening with Quatre for the message.  
  
"01, 02, 03, 04, report to the ready room immediately! Repeat, 01, 02, 03, 04, report to the ready room immediately!" Then there was more beeping and finally, silence. By the silence he and Trowa were already out of bed and searching the closet for something to wear to a Christmas Eve emergency.  
  
* * *  
  
"This had better be good, Lady. You interrupted some serious moaning, and it was my turn to be on top!"  
  
Quatre smirked as Duo promptly situated himself onto Heero's lap, effectively remaining on top. He glanced back at Trowa and together they walked through the door to take their seats. They were the last to arrive, both of them hating the idea of leaving the children alone, but neither one wanting to wake them. It was a parent's worst fear, not to be there when their children needed them. They'd decided to take the risk and hope the children would sleep for as long as the debriefing took.  
  
Sally and Wufei sat at their customary seats. The room was designed like a circle, all around the round room were monitors. In the center was a desk that directed all the monitors including a holographic unit that projected to hover above the desk. Facing the desk that Lady Une sat at the head of, were Quatre and Trowa to the right, and three chairs from Quatre's left sat Heero and Duo; Sally and Wufei were an empty chair and to the left of Duo, while the newly aquatinted Corinne sat three chairs over from Trowa's right.  
  
The chairs would have been comfortable, but as Quatre sat he felt the tension emanating from Lady, Sally, Wufei and Corinne. Some unacknowledged part of his mind had him reaching out and holding onto Trowa's hand. He ignored Trowa's questioning expression; something drastic was about to happen.  
  
Duo must have sensed it as well. "Hey, this isn't going to ruin Christmas is it, 'cause Heero and I have a lot to be thankful for this year, and I know we're not the only one's." He smiled to an unresponsive Wufei and Sally.  
  
In a strange way, Lady Une stared at the chairs between the two sets of lovers. She seemed to take a deep breath, and squared her shoulders, before letting it out in a calming breath. She had Quatre on edge immediately.  
  
He glanced at Corinne and saw a frown marring her delicate features. Sally looked tense and stressed, and Wufei looked depressed and withdrawn. The two newly awaiting parents seemed connected only by the hands they held, instead of the spirit from early that night. Quatre squeezed Trowa's hand before pulling it to his side of the armrest, idly running his thumb over the back of it.  
  
Lady's voice was quite but authoritative, broaching no room for deviation.  
  
"This will be perhaps, the hardest meeting I've ever had to conduct; and perhaps the hardest information I've ever had to give to people I care about." She paused, making eye contact with first Heero and Duo, and then himself and Trowa. "Because of the nature of this information, I ask that you be patient while I explain what I know. Furthermore, I'd appreciate as few interruptions as possible, though I know you'll have questions that demand answers. I'll try to give the information so that it makes as much sense as possible. Hopefully in a half an hour you'll know as much as we do.  
  
"I will be giving the majority of the report, but will ask for Sally's expertise when necessary. Is that understood?" Like dumb men they all nodded weakly. "Good. Let's begin." It was as if she was trying to prepare herself, cueing herself to go to the next step in a painful speech she wished she didn't have to deliver. Quatre felt immediately sorry for her, and immediately afraid.  
  
Again her voice was calm, and though she looked at them as she spoke, she spent most of her time staring at the three empty chairs between them.  
  
"As you all know, copies of the Tragona Faction's files were left on Peacemillion2 when you left seventeen days ago. Because of the staff on the Peacemillion2, they were able to decipher information our tech.s' were cracking faster than we could. As of ten o'clock last night, they had deciphered ninety percent of the information. That is what this meeting is about, Shinigami and Killashandra."  
  
There was silence in the room for a moment, and instinctively he felt Trowa lean in towards his body, and Quatre did as well, shifting in his seat until he could feel Trowa's body heat. He shared a concerned glance with Trowa over Lady's use of Shingam's full name before he turned back to Lady Une, ready for the information she was about to give them on their children. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Trowa nod for Lady to continue.  
  
Another troubled breath and she did. Punching in a few buttons on the console, she brought up a holographic display of the human DNA structure. A color coded double helix turned on an invisible axes as it reached from the top of the table, three feet into the air above it. A few more buttons and another stood beside it, the design the same, the color sequence and consequently the genetic information, different.  
  
She pointed to the first DNA strand, the one closest to Heero and Duo.  
  
"This is Shinigami's DNA composite. The other is Killashandra's. Note that on the surface they look different but entirely human. Technically, to be human the DNA strand must be within five percent likeness to the Homosapiens species. As Newtypes, the five Gundam pilots just barely clock in at four point six, eight percent. Shinigami's DNA clocks in at eighty- five percent, fifteen percent deviation from human genetic information. Technically, Shinigami is not human."  
  
There were murmurs as the four of them exchanged exclamations and Quatre tried to shake his head in denial.  
  
Lady Une cleared her voice to gain their attention before continuing.  
  
"As amazing as that sounds what is more amazing is Killashandra. She harbors only sixty five percent human DNA structuring. This means thirty- five percent of her genome is unknown to humans, and like Shinigami, any other species known to man."  
  
"So what, you're trying to tell us is they're the children of aliens?" Duo tried to joke, it didn't work.  
  
Lady Une shook her head. "The children are in fact not unlike yourselves. Quatre, as an empath, you're DNA exhibits a change of almost the full five percent, nearly four tenths more than Heero, even though we know he was engineered." Quatre nodded absently as he saw Duo shift in Heero's lap to wrap his arms about his lover's neck, offering comfort for the reminder. "Your genetic mutations were unplanned and simply a process of evolution. The changes in the children's systems are overall minute, but the sequence changes in their DNA are amazing. It's as if evolution took a ten thousand year jump with each of them."  
  
He didn't realize he was doing it, didn't know he was shaking until Trowa swung his chair towards him and placed a warm hand on his knee. He offered a weak smile in thanks and then looked to Lady Une to continue.  
  
"The title these children were given, the title of the project they were created under, was well labeled. "NEO" is an acronym and also a word meaning 'new.' The acronym stands for "Newtype Excellence Organism." Meaning, a step above the five of you, a step above the most advanced humans in the universe.  
  
"I'll explain how that is so, and also what the genetic differences are in each child. We'll start with Shinigami." Pressing a few buttons on the console, Shingam's DNA was enlarged, and the strand sifted downwards, a swirl of color as the program sought out the genetic sequence Une was looking for. When it finally stopped and highlighted a sequence of code, it looked no different than any of the others. They looked pointedly at Lady to continue.  
  
"Highlighted is the main difference in Shinigami's DNA, this accounts for nearly ten percent of the divergence from generally acceptable human DNA sequencing.  
  
"What you are all looking at is the part of the sequence that controls metabolism and cell repair. You're not genetic biologists, and neither am I, so I'll let Sally explain." Gesturing to the tired blond woman, she took a seat next to Corinne and began conferring quietly with her as Sally stood and took her place.  
  
She was so clinical in her delivery; none of the previous excitement lingered in her voice and that had even Duo paying strict attention.  
  
"Highlighted for you is Shingam's metabolic sequencing. What you can't see is that his sequencing has been genetically altered. It would be impossible to consider that ten thousand years worth of evolution could happen in one child to this extent and then happen to Killashandra as well. Shingam's basic restructuring isn't unlike that of Heero's. As you know, Heero has an increased metabolic rate that allows his body to heal faster and more efficiently than most humans. For Heero, a broken bone takes weeks, not months to heal; for Shingam, it takes days."  
  
There was silence in the room, and he felt his heart pause in absolute surprise and awe. Days instead of months? Shingam could break a bone in his leg and be walking perfectly on it in only a matter of days, it was incredible.  
  
Sally continued. "There's more. Shingam's body has an extremely complex regeneration system. Every cell of the body, save nerve and brain cells have the ability to regenerate, to a certain extent. However, Shingam's body is amazingly unaffected by normal human constraints. For example, there is on record, a case where the scientist cut off Shingam's left hand- "  
  
"WHAT!?" Standing, Quatre was held in check only by Trowa's fast reflexes and strong grip about his shoulders as he too stood in outrage. But in the most infuriating way, Sally seemed unaffected by Quatre's outburst and continued talking after a moment.  
  
"In two weeks, the hand had completely grown back." She paused so they could grasp the enormity of what they'd just been told. "Certain animals have the ability to regenerate lost limbs, not humans, however, Shingam can. In only a week he had the basic hand form regenerated, and the fingers and mobility returned by the end of week two. This regeneration is faster than any complex animal known to man."  
  
Heero's voice was awed as he spoke. "How is that possible?"  
  
Sally shrugged her shoulders. "It's complicated, but it's all there in his genetic code. The scientists also left a detailed log of the children's genetic alterations. With the information provided, we could do it again, redesign humans to regenerate severed limbs in days. It's the next step in human evolution." Her voice drew quiet then, as if she was mentally cringing even as she was excited.  
  
"That-that's incredible." Trowa's tone spoke in simple terms, the awe of the entire room.  
  
Again Sally nodded, but a frown now marred her face. "Yes, but it didn't come without a price."  
  
"What do you mean?" He knew his voice sounded frightened, he was. These weren't just nameless children they were talking about; these were the children he and Trowa were going to raise as their own.  
  
"While regenerating, Shingam needs to consume mass quantities of food to fuel the regeneration. It's estimated that on average he consumed less than half a pound of food a day, while regenerating, he needed to consume at least ten. The cost is explained in the notes the scientists left. They gave Shingam and Killashandra ten pounds of food a day when they did the hand experiment. Shingam was forced to consume all the food, to regenerate and take care of Killashandra. For a little over two weeks, Killashandra starved so Shingam could eat."  
  
He wanted to cry, to scream in frustration and kill the bastards that had hurt his children. He'd make them pay, they'd suffer more than The Great One would ever forgive him for.  
  
"Shingam's metabolism affords him something that has never been seen before in any species known to man. It's the stuff of scientific horror stories. When Shingam's body is damaged, the repair his cells do to the damaged area increased that areas strength and overall performance by half a percent. What that means is if he were hit in the same muscle two hundred times, the muscle would be one hundred percent stronger than it had been before. The scientists knew this, which is why they beat Shingam so often; because if they did, he got physically stronger. Their research showed there were unknown limits on Shingam's strength. He could potentially grow strong enough to lift a bus. As it is, his strength is listed as being able to lift one hundred pounds-with one hand."  
  
There weren't words to express his feelings. Those men created this little boy knowing that they were going to beat him everyday so he would one day be strong enough to flatten Gundanium with his fingers. This wasn't possible, this type of thing didn't really happen. But it had, it had happened to a little boy that Quatre found himself loving as his own. They would all pay for what they'd done to his son.  
  
Trowa tried to comfort him, and he gripped Trowa's hand tightly, trying to ground himself enough to hear the rest, there was still more, five more percent to discuss, and then Killa.  
  
Sally depressed yet more buttons on the console and the double helix of Shingam's DNA shifted, spiraling down before finally stopping at another indiscernible collections of acids.  
  
"This is Shingam's mental center, specifically the part of the brain that is currently unknown. We just figured out what it does. Telepathy. We know Shingam and Killashandra use it, and here's the proof. His mind is set up so that he can receive telepathic signals, but only ones that are originated by Killashandra. They're linked, on a genetic level. You already knew that, but what you don't know is this." Again the image shifted. "This represents the area of the brain that feels pain. Pain receptors run all through the human body, and Shingam's is no exception. But there's a difference. Where most people's pain receptors lead into a centralized pain center that cause people to drop something that's hot, or run if they're scared, Shingam has no central processor, instead it's imbedded in his link to Killashandra. In simple terms, Shingam doesn't feel his own pain, Killashandra does. Every hit, every blow, she feels it like it were her own."  
  
He heard, "Oh my God," from Duo. Again he was too stunned to comment. All the beatings, all the pain Shingam's small body had been through, Killa was the one to feel it, all of it. It explained things, why Shingam was able to fight even when the pain would have caused a normal person to pass out; Killa was receiving the pain instead, filtered from Shingam to herself. But why?  
  
"Why?" He heard himself say it out loud.  
  
Sally nodded and then shifted from Shingam's DNA strand to Killashandra's.  
  
"The highlighted area is what amasses thirty percent of Killashandra's genetic alterations. Her telepathic center is over a hundred times larger than Shingam's, and we believe that is how she managed to communicate with you, Quatre, through hundreds of thousands of miles of space. Her range is uncharted. Also her empathic centers are nearly seventy-five percent larger than yours are as well. She feels and senses emotions that humans probably don't even know exist. The scientific logs have an account where Shingam told Dorothy that Killa could 'hear Mars laughing,' the conclusion was drawn that the planet was reacting to the teraforming happening on the surface. Do you understand the ramifications of this? Killashandra has expressed through Shingam a knowledge of inanimate objects exhibiting emotional states. This single fact threatens to undo the way we see the world. She could prove that everything we thought was true about life is actually entirely false. But there's still more.  
  
"Along with her empathy, she also exhibits telepathy with animals as well as humans. Experiments were done where a well trained dog was issued mental commands by Killashandra, and it did the tricks it was supposed to, along with some it didn't know, supposedly one's Killashandra had taught it for her own amusement."  
  
"Star." Trowa's voice was barley above a whisper, his pain running deep. Their little kitten had taken so well to Killa from the very beginning. More than once Quatre had wondered at the easy attachment the two had formed. Now, it seemed he knew.  
  
He tucked an errant strand of Trowa's auburn hair behind his ear, startling Trowa before his partner met his eyes. There was so much pain in his eyes, so much agony and yet amazement. Shingam and Killashandra had braved so much, been through so much, survived so much, it was like a physical pain to know all they'd been through at such a young age. Quatre felt as if he'd suffered the beatings with Shingam, and experienced the pain with Killashandra. And the joy Killa had felt by playing with that silly old mirror. Could she sense past emotions from it? Could she sense the joy he himself had had while playing with it nearly twenty years ago? And he knew he and Trowa both could understand Shingam's relief, final blissful relief at never going hungry again. They'd been through so much, he and Trowa would make sure they never suffered again.  
  
But Sally was sitting down, and once again Lady Une took her place at the front of the table. Again she brought up the hologram of both Shingam and Killashandra's DNA, so that they slowly twisted, side by side.  
  
"There are a few more things you need to know about Killashandra and Shinigami's physicality. The now highlighted sections on both of their strands indicate their reproduction centers. As you know, pheromones are what animals use to attract a mate, chemicals released by the body to express sexual peak. Individual species, including humans, have very specialized pheromones and receptors, indigenous to that species. This is why bees aren't sexually attracted to flies, and why birds are not to humans.  
  
"Shinigami and Killashandra, likewise have very specialized pheromones and receptors. They are only sexually attracted to each other." She paused at the gasps they gave. "Further examination of the scientific notes indicate they were created that way.  
  
"Shinigami's sperm cells require a certain chemical before they can fertilize an egg; as does Killashandra's eggs. They release that chemical for each other. To put it bluntly, Shinigami can only reproduce with Killashandra, and Killashandra can only reproduce with Shinigami. There is a zero possibility for them to reproduce with other partners. However, this doesn't seem to be a problem-"  
  
"What the hell do you mean, 'not a problem'? Those fucking scientists messed up their entire lives! How can you say that!?" Duo was livid, he struggled in Heero's grasp, and Quatre could see the tears threatening at the corners of his eyes.  
  
But Lady Une was shaking her head. "You don't understand. Shinigami and Killashandra have been genetically programmed to mate together. Through their construction, a child born from Shinigami and Killashandra will be less than fifty percent human, and possess the genetic alterations of both parents. Their child will have Shinigami's strength and Killashandra's telepathic and empathic abilities, as well as new ones that we can't even begin to guess at. That is the purpose of their mating. To ensure that they don't seek partners elsewhere, both of them have been programmed to desire the other. In other words, Killashandra will eventually grow to be Shinigami's dream girl, while Shinigami will be Killashandra's dream boy. They will never know any other way, they have literally been made for each other."  
  
"What?! You think that makes it right? That everything's better now? Fuck that!"  
  
"No Duo, I don't think it's right. But I thank God the children will never know any other way. Already they exhibit signs of a mated pair. Animals that mate, that bond for life, protect their mates no matter what, which is exactly what Shinigami is doing with Killashandra, and exactly what Killashandra seems to be doing with Shinigami. They'll grow up knowing they're going to be together, for them, there has to be at least some comfort in that."  
  
And Quatre had to agree. The children would never wonder who to date, never fear rejection. They'd slip past all the horrors of being a teenager, simply knowing when the time is right to start a family of their own. A.family.of their.own.  
  
His voice was quiet when he asked. "What's their function? Why did the scientists spend so much time and resources on them? And who did this?" His tone was like steel at the last question.  
  
But Lady only nodded and answered his questions. "Their function was to work as assassins. There are logs of Killashandra being connected to the Zero-"  
  
"To the Zero?" His voice shook with the rest of him as he asked, Trowa's hand squeezing his own.  
  
"I'm sorry to say yes. There are records of Killashandra being connected to the Zero System for days."  
  
"Oh God."  
  
"It seems as if her function was to act as a relay to Shinigami. With his advanced metabolic rate, he made the perfect assassin, not unlike Heero." She paused, a sad expression on her face as she looked at the once assassin now simply man. "Shinigami was created to perform his namesake, to be the God of Death, and kill those Killashandra and the Tragona Faction told him too."  
  
"They'll die slowly for this." Heero's voice was calm, collected, and completely serious. As an assassin, he'd been taught to kill quickly and ask no questions. But over the years he'd sworn off killing and taken on emotions instead. However in that one sentence, it was as if all the years since the war had disappeared, and the Perfect Soldier was once again among them. Duo wrapped his arms about Heero's neck and took a deep breath, holding it, trying not to cry in agony for the children.  
  
Lady Une looked stricken and at her wits end, she looked from one set of couples to the other and then noticeably had to wipe her eyes before continuing.  
  
"With Killashandra's ability to telepathically link with Shinigami over any distance, they could keep her at their base as a hostage for Shinigami to do what he was told. Connecting her to the Zero System allowed Killashandra to see the many different possibilities Shinigami needed to see, without incapacitating him to the point where he couldn't function. Killashandra acted as a buffer and Shinigami was to be the unstoppable assassin.  
  
"This however does not mean that Killashandra was not without her.tactical uses to the faction. There is video footage of Killashandra being alone with a scientist in a room with her. The man was explaining, systematically, how he planned to beat Shinigami.and rape him." She paused as the room cringed in horror and terror. "There is no evidence that either one of the children were sexually abused, and I think it's safe to say that that was one atrocity not inflicted upon them." At their silent thanks to their gods, she continued. "As the man was becoming more and more graphic the vid show's him beginning to sway and clutching his head in pain. There is about two more minutes of footage before the man screams and falls to the floor with a seizure. The scientists concluded that Killashandra had literally killed him with her mind. I have to remind you all of her namesake, 'Killer of the mind.'  
  
"As for Shinigami, there is also footage of him killing, more than once, usually in defense. There are at least five disks of Shinigami killing one of the men beating him, or threatening Killashandra. And while there's no footage, there is a documented case of a mission the faction sent him on where Killashandra directed him, and he killed an unknown target.  
  
"We've ascertained that the children were to bring about a new life, a new world. Recall that their tub dates are close to the end of the war, and in Killashandra's case, after. We don't know who is running the faction now, but we know who was." She paused to take a breath, and Quatre could feel her pain at revealing this detail. "Dekem Barton. He started the Tragona Faction as a way to back Marieminna's army to take over the world. The children were designed to be her ultimate assassins." There was such pain in her voice, such agony in her admission. Quatre knew what he had to say.  
  
"This has nothing to do with Marieminna." Lady Une looked startled for a moment, and he realized quickly that she'd believed they'd blame the little red haired girl. "None of the things that happened to her are her fault, anymore than they are Shingam's and Killashandra's. He did this to them, destroyed one childhood after another for his own gains; they were nothing but pawns. May he rot in Hell for eternity."  
  
"I know he is, Quatre. I know he his."  
  
Heero's voice was still cold when he spoke. "So the children were designed to assassinate anyone that Dekem and his successor in the faction saw as a threat. I assume they were made to watch the Zero files to learn our combat skills so they could kill us as well." Lady Une only nodded. "Then the children are not safe until we discover who Barton's successor is and kill him." No emotion, only cold death, determination to end life and not give a damn about it.  
  
Duo spoke calmly to his lover. "But Heero, if the kids are with Trowa and Quatre, then they're pretty safe. At least this bastard can't get to them here."  
  
"But for how long?" This was Trowa, and it didn't take any of Quatre's empathic abilities to know how frightened he was that something would happen to their children.  
  
"We can't think like that, Beloved. Shingam and Killashandra are our children now, and we have to protect them at all costs! He'll never get to them, never touch them again! He'll never hurt our children again, Trowa. I swear it!" His face and mind were so determined he didn't catch the sickening look on all the faces in the room save his, Trowa's, Heero's and Duo's.  
  
"Quatre." He turned to regard Corinne. She'd been silent the entire night, and he nodded in her direction, fearful but curious as to what her role in this was to be. "All of you." She looked pointedly at all of them for a moment before taking a deep breath. "There is one more thing that I asked Lady Une not to mention until after she'd told you the rest. I want you all to understand that this information will be hard for you to believe, and very hard for you to adjust too. Sally has run three separate tests and confirmed with one hundred percent accuracy the information the faction stated and I'm about to tell you. Please understand that I'm here for you all to talk too, as well as other-"  
  
"Get to the point." This from Heero.  
  
She swallowed, and Quatre felt his stomach knot. "The crew of the Peacemillion2 thought it would be a wonderful gift, to find the parents of both Shinigami and Killashandra by the holiday. To that end they tackled that problem first. The information they discovered was so unthinkable and impossible to current medical capabilities that they scrapped their findings as errors. Nearly the very last decoded piece of information proved their insane theories correct."  
  
Moving to take Lady Une's place, Corinne pushed a few buttons and displayed four more sets of DNA, these floated above Shingam's and Killashandra's; two strands per child. Quatre felt his heart clench, the children had parents, he was going to have to give them up. He squeezed Trowa's hand at the realization, and felt Trowa's return squeeze as he too figured out what Corinne was getting at.  
  
She turned to look sadly at Duo and Heero. "Based on decoded information and tube data, along with five separate and independent paternity tests, it has been proven that Shinigami is in fact Heero's son." She didn't mean to pause, that was evident, but as they watched, the color drained out of Heero's face completely and he visibly began to shake. There was no need to question, they all knew the accuracy of modern paternity tests. Heero was Shingam's father.  
  
Stunned himself, Duo said the first thing that came to his mind. "I knew it."  
  
Heero managed to look at him, a sick expression on his face. "What do you mean, you knew it?" There was desperation to understand in Heero's voice and Duo had no choice but to comply.  
  
"He has your look, I noticed it that very first day." At Heero's confused expression, Duo chuckled in the absence of mirth. "You know, that look you have that reads, 'I'm going to kill you.' When I was talking to Shingam that very first day, he gave me that look. I was so stunned, I thought it must have been my imagination. But he's done it since then, and I just assumed he'd picked it up from you somewhere. I mean he's always looking up to you, always looking for your approval." His sentence died away as Heero buried his face in Duo's chest. "Heero?"  
  
There were tears in his voice when he spoke, and though Quatre felt immense pain at losing Shingam to Heero, he couldn't help but feel Heero's pain as well.  
  
"I missed it, Duo. I missed his entire life. I missed everything." He paused as Duo began to stroke his hair, as the braided man looked to the ceiling for answers and to push back his own tears. When Heero began again, they all felt his raw hatred. "They hurt him. They hurt my son. I'll kill them. I'll kill them all."  
  
Duo stroked the unruly mass of dark brown hair. "Yes Heero. We'll make them pay. I swear it. We'll make them pay for hurting our son."  
  
And then it was like all the pieces falling into place. Shingam's stony eyes, his calm almost emotionless demeanor, his dark brown hair that never seemed to do what it was supposed to do. He was small, tiny really, but no less imposing than the man who was his father. And Quatre could see it now, could see Heero inside Shingam. And some part of him guessed that Shingam knew exactly who his father was as well.  
  
He spoke without thinking. "He knows. Shingam knows Heero is his father."  
  
Suddenly, Heero sat up, staring directly at Quatre, his eyes red rimmed from repressed tears. "What do you mean? How do you know? If so why didn't he tell me?"  
  
"He was acting strangely tonight. After Duo got upset, he asked me if you and Duo were going to adopt a child, and I told him that's what you wanted to do, to raise a child as your own. He seemed so sad, as if he'd just lost something. He knows, Heero. I don't know why he didn't tell us, but he knows, and he was sad at the thought that you were going to replace him."  
  
"I would never replace him!" Heero growled, Duo's position on his lap the only thing keeping him from jumping out of the chair and coming after Quatre in that moment.  
  
Trowa intervened. "Quatre knows that Heero, but Shingam doesn't." Quatre could sense the pain in Trowa now, so very much like his own. Trowa was hurting; they'd been ready to raise Shingam as their own.  
  
Quatre watched the fight drain from Heero as he slumped back into his seat. "I'm sorry, Quatre."  
  
He nodded. "Don't be. I understand."  
  
"This is crazy! How's it possible? Unless I'm seriously mistaken I doubt Heero went to the Tragona Faction's secret base in 195 and took his plastic cup and porn magazine into the little white room." Duo continued to run his fingers through Heero's hair, offering comfort to his partner as he tried to figure out with his still rational mind what was going on.  
  
But Corinne was shaking her head, and Quatre suddenly remembered she hadn't been finished when Heero had interrupted her.  
  
"There's more information you need to know."  
  
Trying to make light of the situation, Duo joked. "Oh Lord in Heaven, please tell me Relena isn't Shingam's mother. I don't think I could take that."  
  
Corinne's expression remained serious. "She isn't."  
  
"Thank God!"  
  
"But you are his other father."  
  
Other father.  
  
There was complete silence in the room for about five seconds, then all hell broke lose.  
  
"What are you talking about?" Duo whispered.  
  
"That's impossible!" Quatre felt the panic rise in his voice, he knew there was no way that could be possible.  
  
"There must be some kind of mistake." There was force in Trowa's tone, as if he couldn't believe it, wouldn't allow himself to take it in.  
  
"There is no way for Duo and I to have produced a son together." Still shaken by his earlier revelation, Heero was almost whimpering.  
  
"Please, all of you, calm down, I'll try my best to explain-"  
  
Now Duo was angry. "You'll do more than your best! You call us in here and drop a bomb like this at eleven thirty at night! I don't know what the hell's wrong with you, but at least give us a story that makes sense! Now there is no possible way Shingam could be my son and Heero's at the same time! Life doesn't work that way! God may be merciful, but he didn't sanction couples like Heero and I, there's no fucking way!" Pulling him tightly against his chest, Heero did all that he could to calm Duo down.  
  
"I know this is very hard for you to accept, even believe, but I swear to you that it's true."  
  
Quatre cut her off. "There's no way it could be true. I'd know! I spent billions on research to find a way, employed the top genetic engineers. It's impossible to breed between sexes in a species."  
  
But Corinne only sadly shook her head. "They found a way, Quatre. Genetic manipulation and crossbreeding, and they found a way."  
  
"How?! You tell me that, Corinne! How in the universe did they do it?!"  
  
But in only one word, one name, Trowa's frightened voice changed his life forever.  
  
"Killashandra."  
  
Again, Corinne's sad eyes were turned in his and Trowa's direction. "She's yours Trowa, yours and Quatre's. In spirit as much as body, she is your daughter."  
  
So few words, such small words that amounted to so much. Quatre felt his body tense at her words, before he slumped into his chair, his eyes staring off into space as he considered them. It wasn't possible.  
  
He heard Trowa whimper beside him, and immediately he sprang into action. Rising quickly he pulled Trowa out of his chair only to return to his own seat, pulling Trowa to sit squarely on his lap. They were going to get through this together, they had to.  
  
"It isn't possible." He heard his own voice, small and scared as he rubbed large circles into Trowa's back.  
  
"Quatre," he lifted his head to make eye contact with Trowa, there he saw tears, tears of painful acceptance. "She looks just like you."  
  
He felt pressure on the link from Trowa's side, and immediately dropped all shields. Their agony melted into each other, pressing upon the other, while questions were asked and answered through their shared knowledge.  
  
He sensed Trowa's remembered awe at the sight of the small girl being clutched in his arms as he descended from the elevator shaft in the Tragona Faction's headquarters; she with delicate and familiar features. Quatre felt his own recognition of her clear crystal green eyes and remembered how familiar they were, how much like Trowa's her eyes had been. Her silent way, so much like Trowa's, but her empathic abilities staggeringly like his own. The way she'd clung to him, cried out across space for him, the easy attachment she'd formed with Trowa almost from the first day, the crazy and immediate way they'd been willing to open up their lives to her and Shingam. It hit him with the force of a train; Killashandra was their daughter.  
  
The tears fell from his eyes unnoticed as he turned to Corinne, tucking Trowa's head into the crook of his neck. His voice was thick with pain and amazement, "H-how?"  
  
Corinne tried to speak but was interrupted.  
  
"I'd know. I'd know if I had a son. I'd know." Duo shook slightly in Heero's arms, his words irrational, but no less meaningful. Every person wanted to believe that if a part of them existed, they'd know about it. Heero absently stroked his hair, looking but not seeing, towards Corinne, listening.  
  
"The only requirement for genetic engineering is a blood sample. Towards the beginning of the war, when Sally still worked for OZ, Heero was captured and tested on. During his capture, it was determined he was a Gundam pilot; samples of his blood was drawn for then unknown purposes." Heero's face looked completely stricken.  
  
"Towards the middle of the war, around July, two more pilots were captured, Duo and Wufei. During their processing, blood was drawn for future DNA matching." Duo seemed to collapse into himself, clinging desperately to Heero, his breathing hard and unstable. Close to him, Sally clutched at Wufei's hand as the proud man seemed to buckle into himself.  
  
"Trowa's blood samples were taken when he enrolled as an OZ officer to work undercover. It was standard procedure." In his arms, Trowa shook madly, and Quatre reached out with mental touches to ease his lover's suffering.  
  
He looked at Corinne. "But don't you see, this can't be possible. My identity as a pilot was never discovered, not until the end of the war. Even then, OZ never obtain a blood sample from me. When Heero and I were captured, we were taken to a barely functioning camp, there wasn't even a medical tent, let alone a physician." He was desperate, though he believed that Killashandra might be his, there was still a rational part of his mind that refused to accept the impossible.  
  
With more sadness then she'd previously shown, Corinne shook her head. "It's on file, Quatre, that the reason Dorothy was recruited by the Tragona Faction was because she possessed two things they required. One was the only copy of the Zero System, the other was because she possessed the foil used to run the last remaining pilot through with."  
  
In dawning realization, his hand moved involuntarily to cover the scar on his abdomen. The foil she'd stabbed him with, his blood on the foil.  
  
"By the way, how is that old wound?"  
  
Dorothy had done this; she'd traded in his secrets, handed over his essence.  
  
"By Allah." He clutched Trowa more tightly to him and felt his partner shift to stroke his hair, comforting him.  
  
"This is all fucking nuts! Why? Why go through so much trouble?! Even if it were possible, it doesn't make any sense!" Duo was struggling to stand, and only Heero's sure grip kept the outraged youth in his seat. "There has to be a mistake! I'd know if I had a son, I'd know it!"  
  
Corinne's voice was soft as she spoke. "The five of you are all Newtypes. Only Newtypes have the ability to pilot machines like the Gundams. Instead of wasting valuable time searching for other unknown Newtypes, the faction decided to simply take what was known. Heero's already possessed healing abilities made him an excellent candidate, and gave the scientists a base to work with when constructing Shingam."  
  
Heero's deadly voice cut her off. "Don't you dare talk about him like he's a thing. He's my son." Possessiveness and pain radiated off of him, and Duo turned to soothe him and kiss his temple.  
  
"I'm sorry, Heero. I didn't mean it that way." She paused before continuing. "When Duo and Wufei were captured they had the next set of DNA that they needed and immediately set about meshing Duo's DNA with the gaps left from Heero's."  
  
Duo cut her off. "But that makes no sense? Why not Wufei? Why me? And as long as they were being picky, why not Trowa's? He was already in their data banks before I was captured."  
  
"It was discovered that Trowa wasn't considered a pilot until after his supposed death at the hands of Wing Zero." Quatre shivered and Trowa nuzzled him softly. "They didn't know at the time he was a Newtype, let alone a pilot, they only looked into after Nekol started talking about him, after his supposed death."  
  
"Fine, that explains, Trowa, but what about Wufei? Why did they need the fifth pilot? Why wait to get Quatre's DNA? They had four sets, that was plenty. They had to have waited nearly three months between discovering Trowa's identity and getting Quatre's DNA? Why not create a child from Wufei and Trowa?"  
  
It was Wufei that answered, not Corinne. His posture was that of a defeated man, and Quatre felt tears slip from his eyes as he watched Wufei struggle with his own.  
  
"Low on time, the scientists decided to stick with the DNA samples of myself, you and Heero. They designed Shinigami using yours and Heero's, and then attempted a child.using yours and mine, resigned to knowing they'd have to facilitate a conception due to the shared DNA. That child was conceived only hours after Shinigami. Her tube date was one day after Shinigami's. Her genetics were considered unstable.she died five minutes out of the tube." Tears fell from Wufei's eyes as he continued. "She was given no name. In her honor I have named her, Nataku." Sally stood then, wrapping Wufei tightly in her arms and holding him for dear life. The unshakable Wufei sobbed quietly for his lost daughter.  
  
".no." There wasn't a word to describe Duo's pain. Large tears fell from unblinking eyes as he stared into space. ".it can't be.I'd know.I'd know."  
  
Heero tucked Duo's head into his shoulder and began to rock him softly back and forth; soft murmurs of comfort falling like a prayer for the dead from his lips.  
  
Pained, but knowing she had to, Corinne continued. "It was decided that Wufei was an unacceptable donor for the experiment. They decided to wait for the other two pilots, or at least one more.  
  
"When Quatre's Gundam self-destructed on Earth, they believed their chances of obtaining all five sets of DNA were gone, thinking 04 dead. However, with the appearance of Wing Zero they realized that 04 was indeed alive, and more than that, capable of controlling a machine more sophisticated than any they'd ever seen before. Efforts to find the DNA of 04 increased.  
  
"When Trowa was discovered to be a Gundam pilot, the scientists decided to hold out for 04, believing that 04's increased abilities would be an asset to the child they hoped to also train to use the Zero System. Furthermore, they'd decided facilitating a birth between Shinigami and the new child would be counterproductive, they were going to wait for four separate strands of DNA.  
  
"They learned about Dorothy's Zero System battle with the then infamous 04, and resolved themselves to wait for his genetic information. Quatre's control over the Zero System was exactly what they were looking for.  
  
"After the final battle, Dorothy was picked up by Dekem Barton. It was his hope that she knew who the final pilot was. When he found her, records show she still had the bloodied foil clutched in her hand. Then they'd had all they needed to know." Corinne stopped, sitting in an abandoned chair.  
  
Heero spoke softly. "Is there more?"  
  
Lady Une answered.  
  
"Not at this time."  
  
Heero nodded, but Quatre didn't see it.  
  
"What now?" His voice shook as he asked.  
  
Duo interrupted her answer. "Heero?" It was such a small sound, so lost and frightened. "They hurt him, Heero. They hurt him all the time. They took his tiny body and hurt him. Why didn't I know, Heero? Why couldn't I feel it? He's my son! He's my son! WHY?! WHY DID I FEEL IT AND SAVE HIM? WHY?!" Hysterical, Duo struggled in Heero's arms, desperately trying to break free. "And my daughter! How could I not have known?! How could I not have know!? Heero!"  
  
Fiercely protective arms tugged Duo forward, and he went, pinned to Heero's chest as his partner tried with all that he was to soothe him.  
  
"We didn't know. None of us knew. We just didn't know, Koi. We just didn't know."  
  
He felt a sob escape Trowa. "They killed her, Quatre. You said they did. They killed her. And the pain, all Shingam's pain.oh God."  
  
He held Trowa close, held him as close as humanly possible as he shook and stared into nothing. Killashandra was his daughter. He knew of the tortures she'd been through. Shingam's pain, starvation, verbal abuse, and death, a cold and terrifying death only to be revived to have it happen all over again. They'd hurt his child, his daughter, his baby. They'd hurt his baby girl. He'd kill them a-"  
  
Suddenly they all sat up at attention. Trowa stiffened in his arms, as he too sat straight up in his chair. Next to him, Duo's tears stopped dead, and he and Heero looked to the heavens with the rest of them.  
  
In the distance the church bells tolled the midnight hour.  
  
Bmmm, one.  
  
Bmmm, two.  
  
Bmmm, three.  
  
Bmmm, four.  
  
Bmmm, five.  
  
Bmmm, six.  
  
Bmmm, seven.  
  
Bmmm, eight.  
  
Bmmm, nine.  
  
Bmmm, ten.  
  
Bmmm, eleven.  
  
Bmmm, twelve.  
  
Lady's voice was quiet and reserved, pained and sorrowful, but with an underlying cord of hope and closure. It was done.  
  
"Merry Christmas, my pilots." 


	25. Chapter 25

Resting in Quatre's lap on the couch, Trowa whimpered softly. Quatre tightened his hold on his lover before stroking the auburn hair that rested across tear soaked features. Trowa had been crying off and on for the last hour; and across from him on the other couch, Duo sat like Trowa did, his tears staining the front of Heero's shirt as Trowa's did his own.  
  
The four of them had retired to wait in Quatre and Trowa's apartment not long after midnight. Nearly six hours later, none of them had moved from the places they'd started from and Quatre felt the numbness of his mind along with his body.  
  
His daughter. Killashandra was his daughter. Flesh and blood; daughter where blood didn't matter but was none the less true. She was his, his and Trowa's; she was their daughter. And those bastards had hurt her!  
  
Memories of the things Killashandra had shown him about her past flashed through his mind and he felt his body tense at the rage and agony he felt, the helplessness and the guilt, for not being there to protect his only child.  
  
"Quatre?" He looked down to see Trowa's red rimmed eyes staring back at him. Trowa was a wreak. Quatre had never seen his lover fall so completely apart.  
  
When they'd returned to the apartment, all four of them had gone to look in on the children who were no longer strangers. Like statues, they'd stood there for nearly an hour, watching too tiny chests fall with deep sleepy breaths; rise and fall, attesting to their slumber and not their deaths.  
  
Duo had said something, something in the moment about how very much Shingam's hair looked like Heero's, and Trowa had simply lost it.  
  
He'd wrenched himself from Quatre's comforting arms and had raced from the room. Knowing something was wrong and that Trowa shouldn't be alone, Quatre had gone after him, the others had followed.  
  
They'd found Trowa pacing in the living room, back and forth, back and forth, he'd moved like a caged animal-one trying to get to its young.  
  
"Trowa?" His voice had been timid, he could feel something damaging and terrifying on the cusp of Trowa's mind. It felt like the scorching sun of his desert homelands and the bitter nothingness of space, it was the way Trowa's mind felt only when he was cornered, only when he had nowhere else to go but his own mind.  
  
"Trowa-"  
  
"She's my daughter, Quatre. Paternity tests don't lie, that little girl in there is my daughter."  
  
He couldn't say anything, so he just nodded.  
  
"And they hurt her, Quatre. They hurt my baby, my little girl! I swore no one would ever hurt my children, never! I swore it while they raped me! I swore it while they beat me! I swore if I couldn't protect myself, then I'd protect you and our children! Look! Look what I've let happen!" Arms shifting in wild gestures while Trowa's manic voice boomed in the apartment, colliding with the walls and bouncing back to hit Quatre, to slam into him and stop his breath. Trowa couldn't really thing this was his fault, could he?  
  
His legs had had a head start on his mind and by the time his brain had caught up, he was already half way to Trowa's side. When he stood in front of him, he grabbed Trowa's arms and pinned them to the sides of his body while his lover's half crazed eyes focused and finally locked on him, there was a rage there that Quatre had never seen, and instantly he knew what it was.  
  
Trowa had always tried to protect him, always, but Quatre had been a boy/man when they'd met, in the same league as Trowa himself; and so Trowa had wisely contented himself to caring for him not as a father, but as a lover. But this was different, this was about a little girl, their little girl, and the rage had a name, a title-Fatherly Love. This was care at its finest level, this was love at its greatest achievement. This was a decade of beatings and rapes and promises to never be the one inflicting the tortures crashing around Trowa in one instant. It didn't matter that he and Trowa had had no idea they were fathers, or that their little girl lay in the clutches of a mad group of scientists. All that mattered was that she had been, and that they hadn't protected her, they'd let her get hurt, and that wasn't acceptable.  
  
"You are not responsible for what happened. Do you hear me, Trowa?! We didn't know. We had no idea! We didn't know, but we do now, we do now, and we are never going to let anything happen to her again! Never! We are not bad parents, we just weren't parents until a few hours ago! Damnit, we have to put this into perspective, we have to think about this with reason, otherwise the guilt will eat us alive, and then where will Killashandra be? We cannot allow her to suffer anymore than she already has; that means that we have to put the guilt behind us before it starts, we have to be strong because she needs us now!" In his grasp, Trowa had visibly wilted and a soft shaking was rapidly become something more.  
  
So strong, and yet, so very delicate.  
  
"Come Trowa, sit with me. You and I have lost the luxury of guilt and grief and there is a little girl in there that will deserve so much more when she wakes up. But you need this now, you need to feel the guilt and grief, so feel it Trowa, feel it now while she sleeps safely in the other room. Feel it now in my arms, because once she awakens, neither you nor I will have the ability to dwell in these feelings; she deserves better." He'd pulled Trowa onto the couch then, and had settled his taller lover to rest in his lap, his head against his chest. "Feel these feelings for the both of us, Trowa, feel them so that I can feel them through you. Don't be afraid, I'll take my guilt, grief, and shame as you do. Feel for the both of us now, luv, for in the morning we are no longer boys or men, but fathers."  
  
In the minutes that followed, Heero and Duo had taken a seat across from them, and together the four of them had waited for the children to awaken. Duo and Trowa wept while he and Heero stared into space, both knowing what had to be done in a few short hours and yet neither knowing if they were truly up for the challenge. Compared to fatherhood, piloting a Gundam, saving the colonies, protecting the world from terrorists' attacks, it was all so meaningless and worthless. They'd lost half a decade of their children's lives, they would not lose a minute more.  
  
And so they sat, waiting for the hour when the children would awaken. Every now and again, Trowa would whimper and Quatre would sooth him with voice and touch alone, not having the strength to ease his mind with his abilities, he was too tired. Like Trowa, Duo too whimpered as the minutes turned to hours, as they waited and worried over what the morning would bring; but Heero only held him closer, holding the long haired pilot together with physicality and soft whispers. In those moments, they were all more fragile than paper-thin glass.  
  
Towards seven, Duo shifted and grabbed Quatre attention away from Trowa's still shaking body.  
  
"Heero?" The Japanese pilot brushed the pad of his thumb across a tear stained cheek. "Heero, do you think my daughter went to heaven?" A question, but there wasn't any hope in Duo's voice, none at all, it was as if the young man knew already what the answer was but hoped against hope that Heero could change it. Heero tried.  
  
"Yes."  
  
Duo struggled to stand, but Heero held him firmly to the couch. "No! Heero you don't understand! Catholics believe that unbaptized children don't go to heaven! Do you hear me?! They don't get to go to heaven, their pagan children, children without God's blessing! They don't go to heaven, Heero, they go to purgatory! Do you know what purgatory is?!" The American was becoming more and more agitated, struggling against Heero, his voice taking on a shrieking quality that sent shivers down Quatre's spine and tears to his eyes as in his arms, Trowa began to sob again. "No heaven! No God! They just exist in this limbo, this place where there isn't anything! That can't happen, Heero! It can't! I won't let it! I won't let them do this to my little girl! I won't let her be damned! She'll have salvation, Heero! She'll have it! She has to have it.she just has too.oh.God." And with that the fight was gone and Duo again fell against Heero. For many long minutes, Heero left the tears on his own cheeks unchecked as he ran his fingers through soft brown bangs. For a long time he did nothing as Duo and Trowa again wept for different and yet similar reasons.  
  
Finally, he spoke, and all in the room listened. "I have never claimed to know much about your God, Duo. I've never given it much thought. But I know this, your religion has been around for centuries, since Before Colony, and it made the perilous journey to the colonies, and survived the skepticism of those very same colonies. And in those colonies, as women died in childbirth from the stress of colony life, and children followed their mothers, your Christian religion survived. The colonists would not have tolerated a religion or a god that would forsake their dead, especially their children. Contrary to the early bible teachings, the things you've told me about your God all point to Him being merciful and kind, understanding, and loving. He does not seem the type of god to forsake lost children. He knows she is your daughter, Koi, and I know your God understands that she is one of His.children. I know, in my heart, that when the time comes, you'll see her again, and she'll be happy in heaven, waiting for you."  
  
Like sand shifting over the desert, Quatre felt Duo's unease settle. Heero's words, though spoken without authority of wisdom, were all the truth Duo needed. In time, perhaps years later, Duo would again question where his daughters spirit rested, but for now, he lay still as stone in Heero's arms; but it was a stillness of the mind as well, Duo was calm for the time being.  
  
He felt Trowa take in a sigh before long elegant fingers brushed against his cheek.  
  
"It's going to be ok, Quatre. You, me, our family and Heero's, we're all going to be ok."  
  
The tightness in his throat prevented him from saying anything so he nodded and placed a chase kiss on Trowa's exposed forehead.  
  
His mind tumbled with everything that had happened in the last few days, but he kept his mind as quiet as he could. Already on ice cracked from his last empathic storm, his mind was easily prone to another as he was too weak to process everything. But he held himself in check knowing two things; one, he had Trowa to think of, and two, he had Killashandra to think of as well. He wouldn't fail either one like he had in the past, he wouldn't! Seeing Trowa as frail as he was now curled into his lap, strengthened Quatre's resolve to do what must be done and finally claim his lover once and for all; Killashandra deserved a family, not two men acting the parts written for them. He'd deal with it all as he could; right now, he needed to take care of Trowa, and once Killa woke up, he'd have to take care of them both. So Quatre sat quietly, running gentle fingers through Trowa's hair, conserving his strength, for in only a little while, he'd be forced to abandon himself once again for his family.  
  
Sometimes a little while is only a matter of seconds.  
  
At the swoosh they turned as a group, Trowa and Duo sitting up to look towards the door to the children's bedroom. The high back of the couch put them at a disadvantage, so that they didn't know which child it was until the little one rounded the side of the couch to stand two feet from Quatre, and six feet from Heero, it might as well have been miles.  
  
A tiny string of ringing followed by kittenish calls for food and attention wrapped about tiny legs as Star begged Killashandra for some early morning attention. As if in a dream, the little white haired girl bent down and lifted the kitten into a grip made clumsy by her tiny size. No expression shone in her eyes as Star purred and rubbed the child under her chin with her furry head. No expression at all on her face as she looked at the group with eyes no longer clouded with sleep; but with a lack of expression that threatened to overwhelm Quatre and put him in the place Trowa had been since learning of their daughter. Her small gaunt face held no expression at all, the same non-expression that Quatre had seen a long time ago before he'd spent months and years to change it. The same expressionless look he'd nearly killed himself to change into smiles and gasps, laughter and tears. The non-expression she'd inherited from her Papa, Trowa's expression. Only unlike Trowa, Killashandra's eyes held no hope, no anything; unlike Trowa, her eyes were as dead as her lifeless expression.  
  
But if the tiny girl knew of Quatre's sudden pain she acknowledged nothing. Instead she stood on the edge of the living room, at the corner of the couch, and looked at the four of them. She shifted Star as the kitten began to squirm, but Killa did nothing, only stared between the four of them, as if deciding what to do next.  
  
He felt Trowa try to say something, indeed, his lover opened his mouth and moved his lips, but nothing came out, no sound or words, as if he were struck dumb at his own inexperience as a father. And being the one to always protect Trowa, being the one to sacrifice for his family, being the only one of them all who had ever really had a group of people he could call his family, Quatre spoke for them all.  
  
"Killa, come here for a moment, Trowa and I have something we need to tell you." He didn't know what he expected, but it wasn't Killashandra setting Star down to the carpet and moving to stand in front of him and Trowa. Her too thin arms reached up for him, and like a father should, he lifted her to rest in his lap, unconsciously holding her tightly to his chest. He heard the jingle of Star's bell only a moment before his entire family was assembled on their living room couch, both Trowa and Killashandra's hands working on Star's glossy coat and making the kitten purr. He took a deep breath, and as if his family knew something important was about to be said by the head of the household, they turned to him with expectant eyes.  
  
He started slowly. "Killa, you know that Trowa and I have already told you that we were going to adopt you. We told you that would mean that you would become our daughter, and we'd take care of you always and forever, and that we'd be a family, do you remember?" Like he knew she wouldn't, she said and did nothing; and yet, still, he knew she understood. "Well, last night Lady Une, Marieminna's mom, told us that the documents Heero retrieved from the awful place you lived before were opened, and now we know a lot more about you and Shingam than we did before. It turns out, there were a lot of really important things in those documents, things that will help us find the people that hurt you and Shingam, but there was something even more important in them." He paused, glancing at Trowa to make sure he was going about this right. But Trowa could only stare back at him blankly, neither one knew what to do or say, it wasn't in mercenary or CEO training.  
  
Taking a breath, he continued. "The papers had a strand of your DNA, and when Sally matched the DNA up to try and find your parents, she found out something very amazing.and wonderful." He had to reassure her, make sure she understood that this wasn't just an accident, he'd never allow his children-his daughter-to believe she was created for a purpose, for anything except love. "A really wonderful thing. You see, those DNA tests said that Trowa and I don't have to adopt you to make you part of our family, because you already are. The test said that you are our daughter, that Trowa and I are your parents, real parents, flesh and blood parents. You see Killa, we're already a family, and you're already our daughter. The best daughter we could have ever hoped for, ever! We love you so much, and I know you're probably confused bu-"  
  
Suddenly he stopped. It wasn't like it had been in the past, like all the other times, desperate. This time the song played out a sort of soothing melody, as if to say, 'Don't worry, I understand; I've always understood.' And then, he understood as well.  
  
"Quatre?" Trowa's concerned face met his eyes, and Quatre flinched as he fell back to reality, the childhood ABC song faded into nothing. Caught off guard, he looked away from Trowa and into eyes equally as green, and clear, and beautiful, the eyes of his daughter; eyes that locked with his and held him.  
  
"You understand, don't you Killashandra? You knew, just like Shingam knows. But why? Why didn't you tell us-have Shingam tell us that you were our children? I don't understand."  
  
But Duo answered the question for her. "Would we have believed them, Quatre?"  
  
He wanted to believe that he would have, he knew in his heart, it would have been too much to hope for.  
  
"Killashandra," he turned to look at Trowa who was speaking softly as he carefully took Killa from his lap. "You're a very smart and beautiful little girl, and I'm so proud to have you as my daughter. I never thought I'd be lucky enough to have a family and now I have both you and Quatre," he paused to smile, "and even Star. If Quatre's right and you knew we were you're parents, that makes some things easier, but it has to make other things harder. I know you have questions, even if you can't ask them right now, and Quatre and I will try to tell you everything that we can. The most important thing," he paused and then locked gazes with Quatre for a moment before returning to Killa's. "The most important thing is that you understand that Quatre and I love you very much, in fact, more than anything in the universe. You're probably wondering how that can be since Quatre and I just found out that you are our daughter, but it's a special Daddy thing. The second Quatre and I found out that you were our daughter we instantly fell in love with you a hundred times more than we were before. Daddy's can do that you know, can fall in love with their children in just a second, it's a very special kind of love. The kind that's always good and happy, and never ever goes away. It's that right, Quatre?"  
  
He wanted to say yes, wanted to reassure both his lover and their daughter. But he'd seen this love that Trowa now spoke of, he'd see it as all the wonderful things Trowa had just described, and then he'd seen it wither at disapproval and disgust, he'd seen it die before his eyes, only to overcome him with madness. Some part of his mind that wasn't caught up in his own fears recognized that Trowa now understood where his mind was, what he was thinking about, he knew it as much as he realized that Killashandra had to know it too.  
  
But what if? What if Killashandra one day did something that he disapproved of, that he simply couldn't tolerate in his set ways of stone and Gundanium? What if she angered him over something? What if she wouldn't listen to him? What if his only option was to beat her until she did what she was told? What if.  
  
Suddenly, a strong hand gripped him about the lower jaw and roughly shook him until his eyes settled once again into Trowa's. Trowa's voice was calm when he spoke, confidence finally back in his voice. "You said so yourself, beloved, we will not repeat the mistakes of our past; we're better than they were." And like a gentle shake, Quatre knew it too be so. He shifted positions, until he had his back snuggled against Trowa's side, his head resting just under Trowa's armpit as he gazed at Killa and stroked her hair, reveling in the first sign of emotion she'd given all morning as she leaned into his caress, begging for more.  
  
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Duo and Heero watching them, studying how they interacted with their new daughter. The first trial was over, and only one child remained. But Quatre understood he was lucky, that he and Trowa were fortunate enough to have been in constant contact with the children since they'd arrived. Killa and Shingam were comfortable with them, and he understood the apprehension he felt from the two young men, as they awaited their own trial at the rising of their son. Not surprisingly, they didn't have to wait long.  
  
As Shingam sometimes did, he must have noticed that Killashandra was missing from their bed, and like the life mate he'd grow up to be, he left the bedroom to search for her. They head the door open with a swoosh and again they all tensed, and it seemed even Killa joined them.  
  
But around the corner of the couch came a boy they hadn't seen before; this one was dressed as before, a pair of shorts and a white tee-shirt, his hair was still bed tousled, and he was still wiping the sleep from his eyes. But this little boy was wearing a smile as big as the sun, and while he didn't run into the living room, none could mistake the excitement he gave off for anything but.  
  
Smile wide, he looked at them all and said in a big voice-just as Duo had taught him the night before, "MERRY CHRISTMAS!!!" And then in a rare display that was thankfully becoming more commonplace, he giggled. Turning to Duo his smile only widened. "Did I do it right?"  
  
So innocent and so packed with hidden meanings, Duo could do nothing more than turn away and hide his face in Heero's shoulder. Shingam seemed perplexed for a moment as Heero warred within himself as to reassure his lover or his son; but Shingam made the decision for him, he turned his attention to the couch.  
  
"Good morning, Killa. It's Christmas! Do you remember what Duo said? He said presents that are only for fun, like our rocking horse and mirror Quatre gave us, for fun and not for training. Then there's gonna be a big breakfast, remember some of the things Duo said we were going to get to eat? You were really excited about those things Trowa was going to make, remember, craps-no-crapes! And then there's going to be even more food at dinner, and Duo said we could even play with our toys and that he'd teach us how to sing some more Christmas songs!" He was a boy on Christmas, his very first one.  
  
Heero had to spoil it for his own good.  
  
"Shingam?" At his name the boy turned his excitement on Heero, the sadness of the previous night gone with the dawning of a new day.  
  
"Heero, Killa and I are still going to get to go to you and Duo's apartment to get our socks right?" He turned to gift Quatre and Trowa with an explanation. "Duo said that Santa Clause gives you candy in your socks if you hang them over a fireplace, so we did at Duo and Heero's. Killa likes candy, and I like the red and white ones, Duo said their candy canes, and they kind of look like canes, so it makes sense." He was literally bouncing now, the balls of his feet sending him up and down in his anticipation. Heero had to try again.  
  
"Shingam, there's something we need to talk about." It wasn't that Heero's voice was cold, though it was, and it wasn't that his demeanor was ridged, but it was too, no it was a combination of those things, and then absolute fear; fear that he'd lose his son before he'd ever had him. Duo must have heard the desperation in his lover's voice; Heero was so new to emotions that he was speaking to Shingam as he used to the other pilots, like a soldier. With a touch on his arm, Duo silenced his partner as he took a deep breath and prepared to gamble his family's happy future on one flimsy explanation.  
  
"Shingam, last night, after you and Killa went to bed, Marieminna's mom called us-me, Heero, Quatre and Trowa-into her office to tell us that all the information from the place you used to live at had been decoded and analyzed. Well, there were a lot of interesting things we learned last night, lots of things, but the great thing is we learned who you and Killa's parents are." Duo paused to steel himself for the next part, but Shingam seemed uninterested.  
  
"Real parents, or new parents, because Killa and I are going to be adopted by Quatre and Trowa. Trowa told us yesterday." There was a flicker of excitement in Shingam, but with it died a hope in Duo that was made physical by the half sob he tried to conceal. Shingam must not have noticed. "Isn't that right, Quatre? Killa and I are going to live with you and Trowa for ever and ever!" His smile widened, as Quatre's heart plummeted. He didn't know what to do and so he looked to Heero for help. He should have looked at a deer in a pair of headlights. The strong pilot of Wing and later Wing Zero, the deadliest piece of machinery ever created was pale and nearly lifeless as he listened to his son excitedly exclaim he was going to be happy living away from him. It broke Quatre's heart, and as he knew what he had to do, and he resigned himself to again explaining things to a hopeful child.  
  
"That is what Trowa said, Shingam." He didn't even have to say 'but' it was in his voice, and Shingam heard it, loud and clear as if he'd shouted it from the highest mountain and cheered at being rid of a boy he'd only just professed to wanting. He felt the panic rise up in Shingam along with his own. "Shingam-"  
  
"You don't want us now, do you? You're going to be just like Duo and Heero! They want kids so their going to get some, kids that aren't they're own! They don't want they're own kids, their own son, and now you don't want us either!" Tears threatened his eyes, and with a blink they cascaded down his flushed cheeks once rosy with happiness, now colored in angry, bitter, jealousy at the lucky children to take their places.  
  
"NO! Shingam it isn't anything like that!" Across from him he heard Duo moan in agony, and Heero tried desperately to breath. He'd already told them he believed Shingam knew they were his fathers, hearing the bitterness in a boy so young fearing replacement was heart wrenching. But he should have known that Duo would never have allowed a child to feel as unwanted as he once had.  
  
Quatre never saw Death move, but in an instant, his best friend had Shingam securely bound in his arms, holding the struggling child tightly. Surprised like the rest, Quatre could only watch as Duo exorcised the demons of his past by opening up his future.  
  
"Shingam, stop for just a minute. Quatre said that you might already know that Heero and I are you're real parents and now I know that's true. You've known all this time, why didn't you tell us when you got here, when Killa called out to Quatre?"  
  
The boy continued to struggle. "We didn't know you. Mother said we could trust Quatre, but we didn't know you! Quatre said he'd take care of us, he said he'd always take care of us! He said we were going to be his family! Killa's his daughter, and now he doesn't want her, doesn't want us! We were supposed to be able to trust him! Now he's betrayed us! I'm glad I didn't tell you, I'm glad! Mother said we could trust Quatre and look, she didn't say anything about you!" The implications were clear, Duo and Heero would betray them if Quatre did. Quatre simply wanted to die at the heartache he felt from Shingam. He tried to reach out, tried to go to the little boy, but in a twist he never would have expected, the tiny hand of one Killashandra broke from its stillness and touched his arm, 'Wait' it said; he didn't move.  
  
Duo continued. "Hey, that's fair. Heero and I haven't exactly been there for you since you got here or even before. But we didn't know, we didn't know that you were our son. You want to hear a secret? Something no one else knows? I got adopted once. Yeah, back at the orphanage I was telling you about, I got adopted once. See you're supposed to get adopted and then live happily ever after with your new family. But guess what? I was with my new family for only three months before they took me back to the orphanage. They told Father Maxwell that I was too big a burden, and you know what happened? They dropped me off and took Deeken Heney with them instead. They didn't want me, they wanted someone else. Father Maxwell was so mad at them, and felt so sorry for me, that after that I didn't have to live with the other children anymore. Nope, I didn't want to be adopted after that, so he let me stay with him and Sister Helen. But I always felt like something was wrong with me, that I wasn't good enough, that there would always be someone else, some other kid better than me, that parents would want more than me. I swore that when I had kids of my own, I'd never let them feel that way, that I didn't want them, or worse, that I wanted some other kid besides them. I promised I'd never use phrases like, 'Why can't you be more like so-and-so.'  
  
"And now look. You're my son, my only son, my miracle son, the son I never ever thought I'd be lucky enough to have. I thought that I'd fall in love with Heero and someday we'd have to adopt a bunch of kids because we couldn't have any of our own, and now look. Here you are. Our son. Perfect in every way, and everything I ever thought I'd want in a son of mine. You're strong and brave, your kind and loving, loyal and honest. I never ever thought I'd be so luck to have a child of my own, and yet here's my miracle boy, my son Shingam. My son, Shingam."  
  
By now Shingam had stopped struggling and stood transfixed as Duo continued, listening, hopeful to every word Duo said.  
  
"So you listen to me, you listen to you're Daddy. All the kids in the world, all the kids on all the colonies, or on the Earth, couldn't amount to dirt next to you. You're my son, my flesh and blood, and in all my life, in my entire life, through everything that I've been through, in every single one of my prayers, I asked for a son. All my prayers to God and all my secret whispers to Shinigami, I hoped I'd have a son one day, and now look, I got a son, and he's all I ever could have hoped for.  
  
"And now before you get to thinking this is all one sided, I think you should know a few things about your Dad. I keep forgetting what dad is in Japanese, so we'll stick with dad until Heero pulls on my braid, ok?" Dumbly and obviously in shock, Shingam nodded. "Well, Heero's a lot like me, see? He's never had a family either, just raised by this horrible guy that treated him like a grown man before he was out of diapers. And you want to know what Heero's secret wish is, what it's always been since he was little more than your age? He's wanted a family, a real family with a.husband, and kids of his own, especially kids. Heero-your dad-thought that he got pretty damn lucky when he got me-which he did-but he thought it was too good to be true that we could raise some children together. I kid you not, soldier boy actually wanted to raise a bunch of kids just like me, imagine my surprise. Anyway, the point is, neither of us ever thought we'd have our own children, we thought the best we'd ever be able to get was someone else's children. Now don't get me wrong, we'd love any child, but to know that you're our son, our real son.Shingam, do you know how proud of you your dad and I are? How proud we are to call you our son? You've been through so much, protected Killashandra so well, we're the proudest parents on the block! We're going to take care of you now, like Quatre and Trowa did, only it'll be different because you're our son. No one's ever going to hurt you again, Shingam, ever, you don't have to be afraid, because you dad and I will defend you to the death, we'd do anything for you, anything!  
  
"Now, to be fair you're probably going crazy trying to figure out if you can trust me, so let's settle this. We learned about your connection with Killashandra last night, so why don't you use it. Have Killashandra go into my mind so that she can tell you that I'm telling you the truth. I run, I hide, but I never tell a lie; I'll never lie to you Shingam, but you ask Killashandra, I don't mind if you need to be sure."  
  
"And me as well."  
  
Suddenly Heero was beside Duo, one arm about his lover's waist, the other brushing the unruly hair from Shingam's face. "You are my son, Shingam, no matter what, you are my son, and I love you. Love you more than anything in the universe, you and Duo are the family I always wanted, but never thought I deserved; I'm glad I was wrong. But you have to accept us. We'll understand if you can't call us Dad or Daddy, that might be asking too much. But if you can, give us a chance to prove to you that we love you, because we do love you, Shingam, more than anything we've ever known in our lives." Duo nodded and smiled, just as Heero leaned down and kissed the child's bang covered forehead.  
  
There was such clear and unadulterated surprise on Shingam's face. One little boy who'd had nothing but himself and a little girl, now had two fathers and two almost fathers-uncles?  
  
Turning to look away, Shingam locked eyes with Quatre, a desperate look there, one that Quatre couldn't read, but Killashandra could. Shingam's eyes swung away from his at some mental prompt by Killa and together they held a silent conversation as Duo and Heero held their breaths and Quatre and Trowa tried their hardest to hold onto the peace they'd found so far this morning.  
  
Finally, Shingam nodded and turned back to Duo, a shy expression on his face, causing the boy to duck his head at Duo's intense eyes. "You-you really want me to be your son?"  
  
Duo choked on the response so Heero answered for them both.  
  
"More than anything in the universe."  
  
"You want me more-more than some other kid?"  
  
Duo found his voice then. "A hundred times more than some other kid-a thousand!"  
  
And then it was settled. It was so easy, as Shingam smiled brightly and moved in closer to sit on Duo's kneeling lap and smiled at Heero. "Is what you said true?" He asked Duo.  
  
"Which thing?" His best friend asked sharing a smile with Heero before tucking his son under his chin.  
  
"That families celebrate Christmas together in the morning and then eat together?"  
  
Duo's voice broke as he answered, "Yes-it's true."  
  
"Good. Then I'll celebrate with you and Heero since you're my family, and Killa can celebrate with Quatre and Trowa since they're her family, and we can all celebrate together since Killa and I are family. Right?"  
  
Heero's tone was strong with pride as he ruffled his son's hair. "Right."  
  
'Tis the season to be with family, even new ones. 


	26. Chapter 26

* * *  
  
"Ho Ho Ho, Merry Christmas!"  
  
"SANTA!"  
  
They were in the dinning room, warm blankets from family couches adorned the ground in a litany of colors to match those that danced across the brightly lit tree. The single couch was occupied by Sally, Wufei, Marieminna on her mom's lap, and Corinne on the arm; while around them sat the others. Heero held an elated Shingam as the boy's eyes widened in wonder and disbelief of the golly fat man before him. Duo's face was just as wonder-filled though his gaze was taking in the sight of his son's first Christmas. On a blanket close by, Quatre sat with Killashandra resting in his lap. Unlike two days before, Killa's eyes held less expression than her face, but still, there was a flicker of understanding and awe in her posture; at least enough to set Trowa to smiling.  
  
There was something mystical about the tiny child Quatre held in his arms. She seemed so small and helpless, yet they knew that she had already killed in her young life-killed and been killed. Trowa was stunned as the little girl in question turned to look at him, their eyes locking into place with one another.  
  
Since using the link the night before, when he'd witnessed how Quatre saw the likeness between himself and their daughter, he too could see the similarities. Her eyes, it was all in her eyes; all her pain and sorrow, all her warmth and happiness, every emotion she possessed was in her eyes, and yet her eyes were silent. So much like his own, so much like the eyes that had reflected back at him blankly from his cockpit monitor, or even the cracked mirror he'd used after he'd been rescued from space. Empty, and yet there was life behind them, he knew, he remembered, hoping with all of his heart, that one day, someone would see that his own eyes were not as lifeless as they appeared.  
  
He smiled wider and lifted his hand to give her a tickle under her chin. Unlike most children she didn't giggle-he remembered he hadn't giggled either-instead she leaned into the touch, craving more contact, begging for physical touch. He'd been the same way. Words made little sense to him growing up. Words alone were pieces of sound that meant nothing. Touch was something. Hard slaps across the face where for rage, ones against his back were compliments, ones across his ass were promises of something he didn't want to think about. Touch drove him, and when he'd first started his relationship with Quatre, touch was all he'd understood.  
  
Quatre had been so gentle with him, no one before had ever been so gentle. When Quatre touched him, Trowa knew, knew on a level of understand he couldn't comprehend, that Quatre wasn't going to hurt him, that Quatre loved him. His gentle lover's touch was soothing and calming, always full of patience and understanding. If he could have remembered his mother, he was sure that she would have touched him like Quatre had in those early months. Caresses so full of love that they seemed to overshadow all other touches that came before it. Catherine had been the first to touch him with pure kindness, but he'd known he was in love with Quatre the day the small blond had snuck up on him, hugged him from behind, and he hadn't flinched away. The day he knew Quatre couldn't and wouldn't hurt him was the day he knew he'd spend the rest of his life loving him.  
  
Over the top of Killa's head, Quatre smiled at him. The two shared a knowing look. Quatre would always understand him, always. All Quatre had ever had to do was look at him to know what he was thinking or how to help him. Trowa suppressed a grimace at how much Quatre had had to sacrifice to do that for him, to be the constant leader for him. But that was behind them, Quatre was gentle and kind, sometimes too, and Trowa wasn't going to let him fall back into old patterns just because he was having a hard time adapting to his new role as leader. Quatre hadn't been healthy all that long, and now, with so many things happening all at once, it was more important than ever for him to protect Quatre.  
  
His Quatre.  
  
The blond man smiled before twisting Killa around to face the golly man in red and white.  
  
"Look, Killa, that's Santa Claus, can you wave at him? Hm? Can you wave?" And like Trowa had seen other father's do over the years, Quatre lifted Killashandra's limp hand and waved it back and forth. Trowa couldn't help the laugh that broke from him as he watched Quatre. "Are you laughing at me, Trowa? Killa," he looked down at the little girl who was now watching the two of them closely. "You're Papa is laughing at me, do you hear him, he's laughing! Well, we'll see if he gets any good presents from Santa Claus, won't we?" He kissed her then, rapid kisses that would have caused a bawling child to giggle, but simply caused Killashandra to turn away.  
  
He saw it then, that quick fad of sparkle from Quatre's eyes, and he watched sadly as Quatre turned to see Duo teasing Shingam and the boy responding in kind.  
  
Trowa wasn't about to complain; how could he? Before him was the most beautiful child he'd ever seen, his child. Quatre's platinum blond hair adorned her head, in curly waves that reminded him of Catherine's equally as curly hair. Green eyes that saw but reflected nothing, eyes that he felt drawn too against his will. She was small and thin, too thin, and part of that reminded him of himself, tried, cold and hungry at her age, and the rest reminded him of Quatre, who's physical appearance was always that of a person who'd had too little to eat. Everything about her was a combination of the two of them, as if those scientists had simply drawn a line down his and Quatre's centers and pasted them together, to create this gorgeous child before them.  
  
But she was quiet, too quiet, and terribly disturbed. Unlike most children she was four years old, and didn't speak, not a single word, and on the occasions when her eyes widened, it was a day for celebration. He and Quatre would laugh and cheer when something caught her attention and caused her to focus on the real world instead of the one she resided in most of the time. She wasn't normal, nothing about her was, and to a certain extent, it pained him to no end.  
  
He watched Quatre try to shrug it off. His lover had been ready, completely prepared, to welcome both Shingam and Killashandra into their home. But Shingam couldn't stay with them, and with his departure left the vital link to Killashandra. How would they communicate with her? How would they know what she liked and disliked without Shingam there to guide them through her thoughts? It was hard to know, hard to watch Duo and Heero laugh with their new son, and see Quatre suffer silently through his disappointment.  
  
He shifted, scooting closer to Quatre so that as they sat on the floor, he wrapped one leg behind and around his partner and the other one around his front Indian style posture. His long arms snaked around his partner and his daughter, pulling them in close and tucking two blond heads beneath his chin. Startled, Quatre looked up at him, a questioning look on his face.  
  
"You looked like you could use a hug."  
  
Slightly ashamed at being caught, Quatre ducked his head. "That obvious, hu?"  
  
"Only to me, Luv, only to me." But Quatre said nothing, and as the presents began their way around the room, and Shingam's laugher grew louder and Killa's silence more deafening, Quatre snuggled closer into him, silent himself as he struggled with what couldn't be.  
  
He tried his best to comfort Quatre, tried to do it quietly so that no one would notice; but some people were paid to notice.  
  
"Quatre?" He and Quatre looked up in time to see Corinne settling across from them on the blanket, Marieminna squealing in joy behind her. "How are you doing?"  
  
He didn't have to be empathic to sense it, Quatre's withdraw and the raising of his shields to protect his inner thoughts from observation. "As well as can be expected, it's a bit overwhelming."  
  
"I'm sure it is. It's not everyday you find out you're a father."  
  
"No. No it isn't." Quatre ran his fingers over Killa's hair, a smile replacing his earlier non-expression. There was no doubt that Quatre loved his daughter, their daughter. Everything he did spoke of his love for her now. There was a lingering sadness, but not directed at Killa, she was perfect, but Trowa could sense that Quatre was blaming himself for her sad beginnings.  
  
"Quatre, you're doing wonderfully." He smiled down at his lover, and was relieved when an answering smile fell across noble lips.  
  
"Thank you, so are you. We're not doing too badly for forty-eight hours worth of fatherhood, are we?" He shook his head before kissing Quatre's temple. "Thanks, I really needed that."  
  
"Thought so."  
  
"Oh Quatre, Trowa, I love her! I love her so much! Thank you, thank you, thank you!!!" Marieminna came running towards them, her new AI doll clutched tightly in her hand. Hugging them both soundly, she bent down to give Killa a kiss as well. "I heard that you're Quatre and Trowa's daughter now Killa, so my new doll was from you too. Thank you very much! You can come over and play with her whenever you want!"  
  
For a few minutes Marieminna talked to Killa, unmindful of her lack of responses. Finally the red haired girl hugged his family one more time and then returned to her mother's side. Duo's voice carried over the joy in the room.  
  
"Marieminna, you better never put that doll down for all the trouble Quatre when through to get it for you. You wouldn't believe the story if I told you!" Marieminna's answering giggle and promise prompted another round of gifts.  
  
From them had been a gift of a large decorative vase to Lady Une who thanked them kindly for it. To Sally and Wufei had been an indoor crystal water fountain that sounded in beautiful tones as the water cascaded over the crystals. Wufei was in better spirits, as was his fiancée, and they both accepted the gift as they tried to decide where to put it. Duo and Heero had been given the pieces for a stain glass window inlay for their living room window seat. Again thanks were given and then Corinne opened her tiny thin box to reveal a month long all expense paid vacation to Paris, France. Modestly she tried to give it back, but Quatre would hear nothing of it, stating in no uncertain terms that she deserved it for putting up with him for the past two months; they all laughed when Corinne agreed whole-heartedly.  
  
For them, was a set of ancient Chinese decorative scrolls from Wufei and Sally, a set of wall sconces from Lady Une and Marieminna, an aquarium set with a fifty gallon tank complete with a voucher for fish from Duo and Heero, and a beautiful hand made quilt from Corinne. Thanks and praises were handed out as all the families talked amongst themselves and the children continued to open one brightly wrapped present after another.  
  
He unwrapped Killa's presents for her, while Quatre helped her to figure out what to do with them. Ironically, she wasn't so un-normal though, as she appeared more fascinated with the wrapping paper, ribbons and bows, and boxes than the actual presents inside. He and Quatre laughed as they watched Killa stare at a piece of gold wrapping paper, watching her reflection in the foil.  
  
When the children's presents were all unwrapped, the partners exchanged gifts.  
  
Wufei gifted Sally with a pair of diamond earrings, he said, to match the new ring on her finger. His smile grew even wider however, when he presented her with six months worth of once a week spa treatments; to help with her pregnancy. She squealed like a child and hugged him hard for a long time before giving him a specially designed set of warm up katana's and a tee-shirt that read, "Daddy in the Making." And Wufei laughed, kissing Sally for all she was worth.  
  
Next came Duo and Heero. An entire set of European fairytales was awarded to Heero for allowing Duo to live one more year, while a whispered gift left Heero nearly blushing. Duo received a tiny box that held a single key in it. The key Heero said was to the new motorcycle Duo had been after him to get. Duo whooped it up and proclaimed loudly upon returning from the garage that the cycle was amazing, and in black with hooker red finishing.  
  
Finally it was his turn. Killa sat quietly with Shingam and Marieminna in front of the tree; Marieminna brushing her new doll's hair, while Shingam sat with Killa between his legs, his arms wrapped about her as she held a newly acquired stuffed camel courtesy of Quatre. The children and the room watched as he untangled himself from Quatre and reached under the tree.  
  
Withdrawing a medium sized box, Trowa handed it to Quatre without fanfare. His lover's eyes lit up as he took the precious package and carefully pealed back the paper. Inside was a mound of white tissue paper, and beyond that, something black.  
  
Reverently, Quatre pulled the black leather book with gold paper edging from its holdings and turned it over. He gasped at the gold script on the cover.  
  
A test forever left unspoken,  
  
A promise for eternity,  
  
A love as pure as crystal stars  
  
A book to record your family.  
  
Trowa  
  
He heard the tears in Quatre's voice as his blond lover tried to wipe them away from his cheeks. "It's beautiful, Trowa, simply beautiful. Thank you so much, I'll treasure it always."  
  
"I know you haven't written in your journal since I read them, and I thought it was time you had a new one; a new one for the new you. It only seemed right."  
  
"It is, and I love it. Thank you." Quatre leaned up and kissed, him and in that kiss was a thousand thank you, for the gift, and for the understanding that went with it.  
  
Laughing, Quatre hugged the journal to his chest before smiling coyly at him. "Well, I guess you somehow managed to be the last person to get a gift, though how you did that I have no idea. And after such a wonderful one from you, I'm glad I got you what I did." Quatre was trying to build up the momentum and he smiled at his lover's ploy.  
  
"Let me guess, cup and brush set?" They laughed as the others in the room looked at them perplexed, save for Shingam who smiled brightly.  
  
"No, not quite." In a subtle movement, Quatre reached into the breast pocket of his informal suit coat and pulled out an envelope. Handing it to Trowa, he prompted, "Open it carefully, you don't want to rip what's inside."  
  
Nodding, Trowa slid his finger under the glued flap and carefully tore away the seam of the envelope. Inside was a crisp piece of stock paper. He glanced at Quatre long enough to smile at the anticipation on his lover's face. Quatre was always like that, he'd much rather give a gift than receive one.  
  
Unfolding the paper, he caught movement out of the corner of his eye before he got a chance to read the document. Killashandra had risen and moved from Shingam's lap to Quatre's, now the two members of his family watched him as he again looked down at the paper in his hand.  
  
At first he didn't recognize what it was, having never really seen one before. He stared at it until the letters began to form words, and the words sentences, and the sentences paragraphs that made sense to him. It was a deed, and not just any deed.  
  
"Is-is this what I think it is? Quatre?" Surprised and stunned, Trowa looked up at his lover to witness the bright eyes the held a hint of tears as Quatre simply nodded his head. "But, but this is.it's for The Crystal. Quatre.I-I can't accept this." He tried to push the paper away from him, tried to hand this precious and important gift back to it's rightful owner, but Quatre wouldn't accept it.  
  
"Of course you can. Trowa, if the past year has taught me anything, it's taught me that family is the most important thing in the world. And you are my family Trowa, you and Killa, you're all the family I'll ever need.  
  
"But a family needs a home, and The Crystal was the only place you and I have ever been that you said felt like home. It was my mother's, and though I didn't know her, I know she'd want it to stay in my family, our family. So I'm giving it to you as it was given to me, a present from the heart, and a place for our family to call home."  
  
He didn't know what to say, and even if he did, he wouldn't have been able too. Selfless and wonderful, kind and brave, these were the things that made up Quatre, that made up his lover, partner, and father of his child. The estate was amazing, truly the most beautiful place he'd ever seen, but the true gift came from Quatre's words, from his faith in their family. In one piece of paper, Quatre had given him all the reassurance he'd ever need; this was truly his family.  
  
Smiling, he nodded and pulled Quatre and Killashandra to him. Wrapping them tightly in his arms, he kissed them both before burying his face in their hair. And though he'd known Quatre would always be his family, at this very second, resting on a blanket next to a brightly lit Christmas tree, Trowa felt for the first time, what it meant to hold his family, his lover and his daughter, and he swore to whatever god might be listening, he'd never let either one of them go.  
  
"Hhhheeeeerrrrrrroooooo, I want a house too!"  
  
"No."  
  
* * *  
  
Later that night, the former pilots sat happily around the couches that only hours before they'd sullenly awaited their trials. Killashandra and Shingam played in the space that was cleared by moving the coffee table. While Shingam strategically struggled to arrange his new building blocks into a design that wouldn't fall over when Star whipped her tail around, Killa lay quietly on her side on the floor, her old teddy bear and her new camel tucked close to her body as she scratched Star behind her ears.  
  
It was getting late, and by all accounts they were all exhausted. At Shingam's unannounced yawn, Heero made the decision that it was time to go. Moving from the couch to the floor beside his son, Heero awkwardly ruffled Shingam's hair. "I think it's about time for Daddy and I to put you to bed, it's getting late." Smiling, Shingam nodded and began to put his blocks back into their box, Heero helped him as Killashandra sat up.  
  
It was a little odd to watch Heero interact with his son. Where once the stoic pilot of Wing Zero was hard and callous, he was now strangely fatherly; and though fatherhood was not going to come easily to him, Heero showed a vast amount of potential and desire in his simple way with Shingam.  
  
Duo stood then and turned to Quatre. "I haven't decided if this is the worst Christmas ever or the best. I can just hear Sister Helen reminding me of the miracles of Christmas and the strangely wonderful things that happen on the day of the Lord's birth. But somehow, I don't think she had this Christmas in mind."  
  
Trowa watched Quatre laugh as he helped Duo carry the glasses into the kitchenette. Quatre was more relaxed now. As the day had progressed, and Killa had become more active, Quatre too seemed to gain in spirits. To be honest he had as well. Killa seemed to thrive when Shingam was around, and to see her as happy as she could be, it was no wonder both he and Quatre fluxed around her moods.  
  
Blocks were finally put away and lifted into Heero's grip, when Shingam raced to Killa and hauled her to her feet. "Come on Killa, the faster we go to bed, the faster we can get up and play with our new toys! They're not training devices, but they're still.fun, yes fun. I like my blocks. I know you like your new camel too. No, not as much as Teddy, but that's ok, Quatre said he didn't mind. Come on, let's go to bed. I bet Duo will read us another story if we hurry."  
  
As a group they held their breaths in indecision and fear. Shingam was dragging Killa towards the room they'd been sharing since they'd arrived, and Trowa watched Heero's shoulders slump a little at the realization that Shingam still thought he'd be staying with himself and Quatre. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Duo tense, but it was Quatre's slip through the link that caught his attention the most. Some barely held in check part of Quatre jumped for joy that Shingam still thought of their home as his own. It was the now silenced part of him that still desperately wanted both children as his own, and Trowa ached to know that Quatre would have to be disappointed.  
  
But surprisingly, it was Quatre that moved to set things right.  
  
"Shingam, just a second." All eyes turned to Quatre as he moved to intercept the two little ones on their way to the bedroom. Dropping to his knees he tugged both children closer to him as he gazed at them both. "Shingam, you remember this morning, when Duo and Heero told you that you were going to live with them from now on. Well, when you live with your parents, you have to actually live with them, that means going to their house to sleep at night. Do you understand?" Quatre's voice was calming and soothing as he softly stroked Shingam's hair. It took Trowa a moment to realize Quatre was carefully planting suggestions in Shingam's mind; Trowa had the foresight to realize that Quatre wouldn't be able to do that unless Killashandra agreed with his actions.  
  
"But then Killa will have to sleep all alone. We always sleep together, she's my responsibility." There was an unhappy crease along Shingam's brow, and Quatre gently soothed it with his fingertips.  
  
"I know, Shingam. But Killa has a family now too, she has Trowa and I to look after her now and she's our responsibility too. You said so yourself. But Shingam, it's a parent's responsibility to take care of their children, and that means it's Duo and Heero's responsibility to take care of you. That means you have to go home with them so they can watch out for you and take care of you, and love you, just like Trowa and I will with Killa."  
  
"But.but what if Killa needs me?" His voice was desperate, as he clung to the only thing he really knew, caring for Killa. Duo answered before Quatre could.  
  
Kneeling down to his son's level, Duo spoke. "Well, if Killa calls you, then of course you'll have to come and make sure she's ok. Your dad and I, and even Quatre and Trowa would never think of keeping you away from Killa if she needed you, right Quatre?'  
  
"Right! If Killa calls for you then all you have to do is go right to our door and enter our pass code. If you're with Killa in the morning, Trowa and I and you're dads will just assume that Killa called you. Don't worry, Shingam, it's going to be alright."  
  
Hesitantly, Shingam nodded his head and Trowa felt Quatre's mental cheer through the link that the suggestion had caught.  
  
Shingam turned to Killa. "If you need me, I'm going to sleep at Duo and Heero's apartment. All you have to do is call for me, and I'll come get you. You call for me if you need me for anything! Quatre's right, you're his and Trowa's responsibility now too, and they can take care of you. But if you need me, you call and I'll come, ok?" He nodded once at Killa's mental affirmation. "Good. Don't be scared. You hold Teddy and Camel really close and you'll be just fine. And you tell Quatre or Trowa if you're too cold, they won't let you get cold at night." Silently their dialogue continued for a moment before Shingam turned to Duo and nodded weakly. "Ok, I guess we can go. But I can see Killa first thing in the morning, right?"  
  
"Sure thing! We'll come over and bring breakfast, I bet Quatre and Trowa would appreciate that. We might even be able to con your dad into making Quatre some good tea instead of that English crap he usually drinks."  
  
"Hey! That English crap-I mean tea-is good! Besides, I'm so addicted to the caffeine I don't dare switch brands." They laughed at the tension's release.  
  
Shingam insisted on accompanying them in tucking Killa in, and Duo decided that reading them their nightly story together wouldn't hurt. Quatre kissed Shingam good night at the door, and he had to hold Quatre tightly as Duo and Heero carried their son away from himself and Quatre.  
  
"I-I didn't think it'd be so hard, Trowa. I thought.I'd handle it better."  
  
Gently he kissed Quatre's temple. "You and I both had our hopes on two children and it's hard to think that Shingam won't be with us from now on."  
  
"Do-do you think I'm being selfish?"  
  
Softly he ran his fingers through Quatre's hair. "Never. I've never met anyone as selfless as you are. But I understand, it's like losing him, like losing our son before he was ever ours. But we're not losing him, Quatre. He's right down the hall, and he'll always be right down the hall. And after learning about Shingam and Killashandra's reproduction construction, he'll always be a part of our family."  
  
Quatre nodded. "I know. It's just.hard, that's all."  
  
"I know."  
  
Turning back from the door, they returned to Killa's room. The small child looked even smaller in the huge queen sized bed all by herself. She was curled onto her side, one teddy bear and one camel tucked under her arm and against her body. Her eyes were wide as the door opened and they stepped in, wide, and perhaps a little frightened.  
  
As Trowa knew he would, Quatre noticed.  
  
"Don't worry, Killa. You'll be asleep before you know it, and then Shingam will come over and the two of you can play all day long. I know this has to be very strange for you, so much has happened in the last three weeks, but everything is going to be ok. Your Papa and I aren't going to let anything bad ever happen to you again, and we're going to love you so much, for the rest of your life. You'll have everything you need, and probably everything you want too, though I'll try my best not to spoil you too much." Quatre turned to him then, and together they shared a smile. "You're Papa and I have so much to show you and teach you. You know Papa used to work as a clown at the circus, and you've seen some of his tricks. Well, I bet he'll show you some you can try when you get a little older, he'll teach you all kinds of things, all kinds. And I'll teach you things too. Fun things like music and art, and when you're older, I'll teach you about ROE, and balancing cash flows with worker output. But I'll only show you, Killa, I won't force you. Your Papa and I will try our best to encourage you in everything you do, everything! I promise! That's my promise to you, we'll never, ever condemn you, never, ever."  
  
Carefully, he wrapped his arm about Quatre's shoulders and sighed when the muscles in Quatre's back relaxed a little.  
  
"Killashandra," the child's eyes focused on him. "Your Father and I love you very much, and we'll do everything in our power to be the best fathers we can for you. We might not always succeed, and we're bound to make mistakes, but we'll always put you first, always. You're our miracle, just like Shingam is Duo and Heero's miracle. No matter what happens, we'll always love you, always."  
  
Quatre nodded his agreement, and then bent down and kissed their daughter. "Now you sleep tight, and remember, if you need us, we'll be in our room, you know where that is. All you have to do is walk up to the door, and it'll open. If you need anything, even if you're just lonely without Shingam with you, all you have to do is come to us, ok?" Killa didn't answer, but there seemed to be a sense of relief in her demeanor, or maybe it was a trick of the light.  
  
"Good night, Little Angel. Father and I will see you in the morning."  
  
"Good night, Sweetheart."  
  
And with tears in their eyes they left the room, both somber at leaving Killashandra alone.  
  
"Trowa, do you think maybe she shouldn't sleep alone tonight? I mean after everything she's been through, she might get scared, or have a nightmare, or forget where she is, or ev-"  
  
Soundly, he kissed Quatre. When the kiss ended, he pulled back and smiled reassuringly. "You told her where to go if she felt scared or needed anything, and she's still connected to Shingam even if he isn't in the same room, she'll be fine."  
  
"Are you sure?"  
  
"I'm sure."  
  
"Is that your maternal instinct telling you this, or just your gut, because your gut instincts aren't all that good if you'll recall."  
  
"Actually it's my paternal instinct, which I have a feeling will be much more accurate than my gut one."  
  
"How's that, this instinct is on the outside of your body?"  
  
"Something like that."  
  
They laughed softly until they heard Star's bell chiming as she raced across the room from the kitchenette. Stopping at the door, she meowed for a moment until the sensor caught her presence and opened for her. As they watched, one little bundle of fur jumped onto the bed and settled squarely against Killa's chest. And as the door closed behind Star, they saw Killa snake her hand out from under the covers to gently pet the fluffy kitten.  
  
Quatre's voice sounded as stunned as he felt. "Imagine that."  
  
"We've be one-upped by our kitten."  
  
"Your kitten."  
  
Trowa shook his head as Quatre smiled.  
  
"Let's go to bed, it's been a long, long, long day."  
  
* * *  
  
At the swooshing sound, Trowa opened his eyes instantly. Quatre rested against his chest, his lover's hand atop his stomach. Glancing at the clock he nearly groaned as the display read three, thirty-seven. He wasn't sure what the sound had been, but never the less, he already had his hand on the throwing knife he kept behind the headboard.  
  
Another sound, the tiny tinkling of a bell mingled with the louder sound of shuffling feet had him releasing the knife's handle and looking over the side of the bed. There, he came face to face with a pair of ethereal crystal green eyes.  
  
He smiled before petting her hair as he worked his other arm from around Quatre's still sleeping form. Careful to disturb Quatre as little as possible, Trowa reached over the side of the bed and lifted his daughter onto the mattress.  
  
She knelt there for a moment, wide eyes taking in Quatre, and wandering up to watch him as he watched her. She seemed to be considering something, analyzing something Trowa didn't understand. Then in a note of soft chimes, Star jumped onto the bed and walked between himself and Killa to snuggle atop his lower stomach. He nearly laughed as Quatre, disturbed by Star's bell, mumbled. "Stupid cat."  
  
Then Killa was shifting, laying down with him as Quatre was across from her, her tiny head resting in the crook of his arm and chest as he pulled the covers around her and held her close.  
  
One small hand reached out and glided over Star's settled form before moving up his stomach to rest over Quatre's warm hand. After a moment, when Trowa began to think she'd settled in herself, she moved her hand up to Quatre's face and softly touched his cheek. Quatre mumbled again, and snuggled more firmly into him as Killa continued to lightly run her fingertips across his cheek and nose, to barely touch his lips before doing it again. Finally, she rested her palm against his temple and then sighed.  
  
It was like nothing Trowa had ever seen before. In that one instant, in those two minutes of midnight exploration, he knew Killa had made a decision. As she snuggled into him for the last time, her hand still resting on Quatre's temple, Trowa imagined he understood the decision she'd just come too. Quatre was her father, and he was her papa, they could be trusted.  
  
Minutes later he heard the deep breathing of his entire family as they all slept on his and Quatre's metal and dark cherry wood canopy bed. He watched the burgundy satin sheets and comforter rise and fall with their breaths, and he felt such peace and happiness that it threatened to overwhelm him. Instead he closed his eyes to a sight he never thought he'd see or deserved, that of his family, peacefully sleeping the night away. 


	27. Chapter 27

The following morning Quatre awoke feeling more rested and rejuvenated than he had in weeks. Stretching, he was slightly disappointed to discover that he was alone in bed, but decided that Trowa had most likely gotten up to care for their daughter.  
  
Their daughter.  
  
It still didn't seem quite real, and yet it was, so real in fact it threatened to stop his heart and make him cry out in joy and fear. His daughter, his little girl. He was a father, and he'd be better, he'd be amazing, he'd love his daughter no matter what, it was his promise to her. Nothing would ever change how he felt about her, he'd dedicate his life to her and Trowa, to his family. He wouldn't be anything like the man he'd called father.  
  
At the thought his heart gripped in his chest. His father. Could he ever escape from that man's shadow? Would the crimes committed against him by this man he loved despite everything, condemn him to repeat them onto his only daughter?  
  
Often he'd lain awake at night, holding Trowa's body close and wondered what he could have done to make his father love him. Could he have smiled at a better time or tried harder not to let his emotions show like he had? If only he'd been stronger, manlier then perhaps, just maybe his father would have loved him enough to accept him fully.  
  
But that hadn't been the case, and his father had shunned him and hurt him to the point where Quatre could feel little emotion towards his dead father at all. He wanted to hate him, wanted to laugh like he had that day in space so long ago and spit on his father's grave as he had two nights after the funeral he hadn't attended. But there were times as well that he thought back to the many warm nights by the fire that his father would read to him, tucked safely in the comfort of strong and familiar arms. Nights when his empathic abilities had awoken him screaming and his father had come to comfort him. Days when they'd sat listening to music while his father had tried to teach him a love for the business, when all Quatre had wanted was the chance to spend time with his father. Which was right? Which emotion was the right path to follow? Could he hate the man that on some level had loved him, or could he love that man that had on some level hated him? He didn't know, and that alone awoke him at night even now so that he clutched Trowa's sleeping body to his chest and wept silent tears of frustration and fear. Was he his father's son, or wasn't he?  
  
Abruptly he shook off that line of thought and rose to greet the-he looked at the clock-Afternoon! Scrambling quickly, Quatre raced for the bathroom and busied himself with mandatory chores before dressing quickly and leaving the relative safety of his bedroom.  
  
From the afternoon light coming through the windows he smiled brightly at the sight before him.  
  
Killa lay with Star in a patch of warm sunlight, while Shingam played mindlessly with his blocks engaging Killa in a one sided conversation. His eyes fastened onto Trowa as his lover rose to greet him good day. Behind Trowa sat Heero and Duo who watched their son adoringly, while Wufei and Sally too smiled softly to see the two children happy.  
  
"How are you feeling this morning?"  
  
He smiled as Trowa took him into his embrace. "I'm feeling much better. Actually, I haven't felt this good in weeks. It's a little strange actually." Trowa chuckled. "What's so funny?"  
  
Turning his head, Trowa regarded Killa's contented form, and Quatre followed his gaze to rest on their daughter.  
  
"Last night, around three thirty or so, Killa and Star decided they were lonely. I ended up with my whole family piled onto me last night; the experience wasn't entirely unpleasant." Trowa smiled down at his astonished expression.  
  
"Killa came into our room last night? I didn't even hear her." He was slightly upset with himself, feeling as if he'd neglected some sort of fatherly duty. Hadn't his own father at least known when he'd entered his room late at night.  
  
"Little Sultan, if you insist on waking an old man, at least come here and go to sleep. I'll never get any rest with you trying to be quiet by the door."  
  
"You were exhausted, it'd been a long night. Besides, I have a feeling Killa wanted you to sleep."  
  
Startled, Quatre turned to regard his partner. "What do you mean?"  
  
Trowa shrugged. "When she came in last night she sat on the bed and just stared at you for a little while. I can't really describe it, but it was like she was just watching you sleep and thinking about what that meant. I'm not making much sense, but it was amazing to just watch her watching you. Then she settled in and when I thought she was finally going to sleep she moved her hand and started touching your face. Again, it's hard to describe, but it was like she was familiarizing herself with what you looked like. She finally fell asleep with her palm against your temple. I wondered if you'd feel better in the morning."  
  
Stunned, Quatre mulled that thought over as he shifted his gaze to watch his daughter. "You think she might have helped me empathicly?"  
  
"You did say you felt better this morning."  
  
Absently Quatre nodded.  
  
Squeezing Trowa's hand, Quatre moved across the room and sat very close to Killa but out of her range of sight. Star meowed and untangled herself from Killa's grasp and moved to Quatre's waiting fingers.  
  
Slowly, Killashandra turned to him, her eyes were focused as she gazed at him. He didn't recognize an expression of any kind but he was sure there was some kind of easy emotion running through her. On impulse he turned to Shingam.  
  
"Shingam, what is Killa thinking right now?"  
  
A bit startled by the question, Shingam turned to Killashandra before turning back to him.  
  
"Killa's glad you feel better this morning. She was worried about you last night. She says that you've had a lot of bad things happen to you, just like us, and she doesn't want you to hurt anymore." Shingam shrugged and returned to his blocks, trying to arrange then in colored patterns this time.  
  
In awe, Quatre turned back to Killa only to find that the child had risen and was now standing directly in front of him, Star having moved away at her presents or command. Still her eyes spoke of nothing, but as she looked at him, her small body barely coming up to his shoulders, she looked so much like she wanted to tell him something.  
  
Smiling he drew her into his embrace, settling her so she rested on his thighs and had her head pillowed to his chest. "It's ok, Killa. I'm all right thanks to you. I feel much better. I appreciate you trying to take care of me, but you don't have too, it's my job to take care of you, remember? Don't worry about me, I can take care of myself. You just get to be a little girl, my little girl, and I'll take care of you and your Papa, and even Star. That's my job, to take care of all of you. And if you're worried about me, you don't have too, that's Papa's job. He'll take care of me so I can take care of all of you. OK?"  
  
He nuzzled her soundly and knew he'd gotten through to her on some level as her hand fisted the soft blue shirt he wore. Silently he felt Trowa settle in behind him.  
  
"You know, Quatre, if your family opens every day like this, I'd hate to see you all come together in a crisis, it'd be freaking scary!" Quatre chuckled as Heero hit his partner upside the head and Shingam laughed at his father's antics.  
  
"You're just jealous."  
  
"Naw, you should have seen us this morning. Shingam and I ganged up on Heero in the mess hall. Didn't we, Shingam."  
  
The boy giggled loudly while nodding his head, blocks forgotten. "Yeah! We threw cereal at him until he tugged on Duo's braid and tickled me. Oh and guess what! I forgot to tell Trowa, but guess what!"  
  
Quatre could see it already. It was amazing how much of Duo's personality was already being exhibited in Shingam. He felt a quick stab of jealousy, but it disappeared just as quickly as he took in Shingam's excited appearance.  
  
"What?!"  
  
"Heero didn't even know about Trowa and the stubble, but I went into the bathroom this morning cause Duo wanted to brush my hair, and Heero was shaving and guess what!"  
  
He laughed as did the others in the room, even Killa seemed to be paying close attention to Shingam.  
  
"What!"  
  
"Heero showed me how to shave! Again! And I told him that I knew how to check for stubble and I showed him and he laughed and so did Duo! I told them Trowa showed me how, and that he'd showed me how to check. And then Duo asked what else Trowa had said and I told him that Trowa had said that you didn't have any chest hair and Heero laughed so hard Duo had to hold him up!" A proud expression settled onto Shingam's face as he exclaimed his morning antics.  
  
For his part, Quatre simply ducked his head in shame as the others laughed.  
  
"Hey, I have chest hair.it's just hard to see! For the love of Allah, I am blond! Give a guy some credit!"  
  
"We tried Quatre, but it's hard talking to a guy that still looks fifteen." Duo was whooping it up as he laughed, and even Sally and Wufei couldn't suppress their giggles.  
  
Sally's voice held more mirth than Quatre thought the situation deserved. "From a medical stand point, Quatre, you're perfectly healthy. It's natural, I mean, someone has to be a late bloomer." Laughing hard at his grumbling Sally turned to bury her face into Wufei's shoulder.  
  
Even behind him, Trowa laughed as well. He turned to offer his lover a glare. "Fine just laugh it up! Keep laughing Trowa, we'll see how funny it is when you're sleeping in Wufei's old room down the hall!"  
  
The rest of the afternoon went pretty smoothly after that, it was the night that brought the first real trials of fatherhood.  
  
* * *  
  
They were relaxing at Duo and Heero's home. Again the two children lay sprawled out on the floor, only this time Quatre and Trowa watched fascinated as Killa handed block after block to Shingam.  
  
"Ok, a green one this time." And obliging him, Killa handed over the appropriately colored block.  
  
"Shingam?" Trowa's voice held all the awe that they'd discovered watching Killashandra participate for the first time. "Does Killa know her colors, or are you telling her which blocks to hand you in her mind?"  
  
Wondering the same thing, Quatre turned to watch Shingam's perplexed expression before shrugging his shoulders. "She knows her colors. Ask her to bring you a block, pick any color."  
  
They shared a questioning look before Trowa cleared his throat and quested Killa. "Killa, would you bring me a red block?" There was hesitation there, and Quatre felt the apprehension that they'd be disappointed. But Killa only looked at the blocks around her before picking up a red one and a blue one. Standing she carried the precious red block to Trowa before handing it to him softly. Then, turning, she handed the blue block to Quatre.  
  
Shingam answered his question before he could ask. "Killa said you were thinking about blue when Trowa said red. She wanted you to have a block too."  
  
He smiled before catching Killashandra in a quick hug. She didn't hug him back, but she lingered for a moment by his side before returning to the floor and again handing Shingam the blocks he asked for.  
  
"She surprises me a little more everyday."  
  
Trowa smiled as he answered back. "I think that's par for the course."  
  
Quatre couldn't help the laugh that escaped him. Suddenly, the door chimes rang and Heero came out of the bedroom where he and Duo were currently searching for an old book that had a story they were going to read to the children before bed. It was almost eight.  
  
Heero released the lock on the door and startled a little at the man standing before him.  
  
Dressed in black with only a square of white showing at the collar, the balding but handsome priest smiled warmly at Heero; who simply stared back.  
  
When the older man spoke it was with an accent Quatre recognized as Italian.  
  
"Hello, I'm Father Santiago, the priest at The Holy Cross, a church in town. A parishioner of mine, Duo Maxwell, requested to see me and gave me this address. Does he live here?" The man was all smiles and instantly set Quatre at ease. He understood why Duo enjoyed church so much with this kind soul leading the masses.  
  
Nodding, Heero motioned for the man to enter, as he shut the door and moved into the bedroom.  
  
Left alone with a slightly shunned holy man, Quatre felt it was his responsibility to fill up the space. "Father, is there anything I can get you to drink? Please, sit down." Quatre stood to get the beverages and motioned to one of the chairs around the living room.  
  
"No, no, I'm fine, thank you. I will take that seat though." Sitting, the man turned to watch the children who had now turned their attentions to him. The Father's eyes lit up upon seeing them. "Now I know the two of you. Didn't I see you both the other day at Christmas Mass?" Shingam nodded his head and the old man smiled. "Well, did you like it?"  
  
Shrugging Shingam looked a little lost before smiling. "I liked the story of baby Jesus. Duo told us a story like that later only it was different. He said some of the stories were the same but sounded different."  
  
The priest nodded. "Yes, there are many versions of the birth of Jesus. Which story did you like better?"  
  
Shingam didn't hesitate. "The story Duo told, it had angels in it." The man nodded again.  
  
Suddenly Duo entered, brushing off his hands as he came in, Heero close behind him, another odd look on his face.  
  
"Father Santiago! Thank you so much for coming! I know it's short notice and you have so many obligations, but I really appreciate you taking the time."  
  
Father Santiago smiled and stood to shake Duo's hand. "Of course. You sounded as if it were rather important." Quatre heard it then, the hesitation on the priest's part to say anymore. Quatre thought it kind that the man didn't want to divulge more than he thought Duo would want them to know.  
  
But Duo only seemed more agitated and as they watched he very nearly began pacing.  
  
"It is really important, Father. Crazy important actually. I-I need your help." Duo's voice trailed off then as he meekly looked at the man's startled face.  
  
"Of course my son, in any way I can."  
  
Duo nodded before glancing at Heero and then turning away, ducking his head. Quickly Duo turned to Shingam and called the boy too him. Obediently, Shingam when to Duo's side, and Duo positioned him in front of his legs, his hands on Shingam's shoulders proudly.  
  
"Father Santiago, I'd like you to meet my son, Shingam. Shingam, you remember Father Santiago from church don't you?" Shingam nodded and the priest bend down to shake Shingam's hand.  
  
"It's very nice to meet you Shingam." Then the man stood and looked at Duo questioningly. "I wasn't aware that you had a son."  
  
Shifting nervously, Duo fidgeted for a second before responding. "Actually Father, neither did I. It's been a bit of a shock actually. But Shingam's wonderful! He's all I ever could have hoped for!" Duo ruffled Shingam's hair as the boy smiled brightly up at him. "It's really complicated, and I promise to fill you in as much as I can, but I really need you to do me a favor, Father. I wouldn't ask, but I just can't allow anything to happen to my son."  
  
Desperation found it's way into Duo's words, and Heero stepped away from the wall he'd been leaning up against to move to the arm of the couch.  
  
Confused himself, Quatre sat back down next to Trowa, only to have Killa stand and moved into the circle of his arms and they all watched Duo become more and more distressed.  
  
"If it's within my power to help you, Duo, you know I'll try." In a reassuring gesture Father Santiago gently clasped Duo's shoulder. Quatre saw Heero's eyes cloud over for the briefest of moments.  
  
Duo nodded, and when he looked up Quatre and the others nearly gasped at the tears threatening to spill over.  
  
"Father, I've never thought of myself as a good man, in fact, I haven't got a single delusional bone in my body as to where I'm headed once I'm dead. I've told you before that my hands are stained with blood and I don't think you've ever really understood just how stained. But that's me, those are my sins, and I refuse to have my son pay for them!" Duo tightened his grip on Shingam's shoulders, and the boy looked questioningly up at him before turning his look on Heero and then Quatre.  
  
The priest remained silent as he let Duo continue. "My son has already been through so much." A sob caught in Duo's throat. "He's been through so very much. He deserves everything, more than I can ever give him. But I'll try, I'll try to be the best father I can to him. I'll try to be like Father Maxwell was to me, I'll try to love him the way I remember being loved.  
  
"But my hands are unclean, Father. They're covered in guilty and innocent blood alike, and I won't have my sins transferred to my son! He's innocent, maybe not to some people, but nothing that's happened to him is his fault, and I know the Lord won't fault him for anything. But my sins, the things I did, they could hurt his chances, they could wind up falling onto Shingam's shoulders someday. Despite everything else, he is not Shinigami, he's not the god of death that I was. He's going to grow-up, happy and healthy, and loved more than any of the rest of us ever were."  
  
Father Santiago squeezed Duo's shoulders, and the braided man looked up at him, tears still threatening to spill over. "Duo, I'm sure that your son will be very happy. You're a good man, and I have to say, I've never heard someone as young as you consider themselves as guilty as you do. God forgives my son, he loves all of his children, and you have but to ask for forgiveness sincerely and the Lord will accept you. You've told me before that you played some part in the past war, and you've prayed for God's forgiveness. Believe in Him, believe that He forgives you."  
  
But Duo only shook his head wildly. "Father you don't understand, and I can't explain it too you, not all of it. I just won't allow the things I did to be reflected onto Shingam, my sins or Heero's." Duo turned to look at his partner who stared blankly back at him. Pausing to think, Duo finally turned back to the priest.  
  
"Father, I haven't exactly been completely honest with you." Duo paused again before turning to look at Heero once more. "Father Santiago, this is Heero Yuy, my.my partner."  
  
Quatre drew in a breath of anticipation as Duo did. Like his own religion, Catholicism looked unfavorably on the type of relationships that he and Duo had with their lovers. Of all the major religions of the world, Catholicism and Islam looked down on their kinds of families. He knew it was hard for Duo to admit what he had, and he prayed to Allah that the priest would not chastise Duo anymore than his best friend already had himself.  
  
Heero must have felt the same way because he moved quickly from the edge of the couch and pulled his lover gently but firmly out of the priest's lax grasp. There was a look of warning in Heero's eyes, and thankfully Duo didn't see the obvious threat of violence if the man before them attempted to belittle or otherwise condemn his lover.  
  
But Father Santiago only nodded, smiling a little as he did. "Duo, to be perfectly honest, I've been feed the 'he's only my room mate' line so many times, I've learned to weed out the implications." At Duo's stunned expression the man only laughed. Turning to Heero, the priest held out his hand. "Heero, it's nice to formally meet you. On behalf of Father Maxwell, I thank you for taking such good care of Duo." It was obvious that neither young man expected this kind of reaction, and very carefully Heero took the offered hand. If Duo could have looked like anything it would have been a fish out of water. His mouth moved in stunned amazement, as his eyes only seemed to grow.  
  
Shingam broke the odd mood. "Duo, you're squeezing my shoulders too tight, Killa says it hurts."  
  
Startled, Duo let go of Shingam's shoulders as if he'd been burned. Concerned, Quatre spun his daughter around quickly as he and Trowa examined her and questioned her on her health. For his part the holy man took everything in stride.  
  
"The children are close I take it."  
  
Not knowing what else to do, Duo nodded.  
  
When he and Trowa were satisfied that Killa's arms weren't broken or falling off her shoulders, the room once again settled into quiet.  
  
Softly, Father Santiago questioned Duo. "I'm sure you didn't call me to tell me about your," he cleared his throat, "room mate. Why don't you tell me what's really bothering you, and how I can help." There was such gentleness in this man's words and actions, nothing mocking or self- righteous. This man genuinely cared about Duo, and Quatre guessed from his reference to the couple that raised Duo, it had something to do with Father Maxwell and Sister Helen.  
  
Looking up at the priest, Duo nodded from the safety of Heero's embrace before looking down at Shingam adoringly and yet fearfully.  
  
"Shingam's situation is a little strange, but the outcome's the same. His soul isn't safe, Father. He hasn't been baptized yet, and while I know it's a long drawn out process, I'm hoping that you'll believe me when I promise to go to all the classes and everything if you'll just baptize Shingam before you go. He just-I won't allow his soul to go anywhere but heaven as long as it's within my power to protect him."  
  
Duo must have felt it because he grimaced as he looked up at Heero who had tensed immediately after learning the reason Duo had asked the kind priest to come to their home.  
  
"Heero-"  
  
But Heero turned away then, and moved back to his place by the edge of the couch. Desperate and frantic, Duo followed.  
  
"Heero, listen to me, I was going to talk to you about it-"  
  
"When, after it was finished?" There was such hurt in Heero's voice, such stunned pain that it cut deeply into Quatre as he felt his friends emotions with his talents.  
  
"Heero, no, it wasn't like that. Everything just happened so fast! I called Father Santiago this morning, but I really didn't think he'd be able to come until later this week, if at all this week! I was going to talk to you about it, really I was! But Heero, I can't allow this to happen. I didn't have a way of protecting my daughter, and there's no way in Hell I'm letting anything happen to my son!" A fierce protectiveness fell over Duo, and Quatre could feel that as well.  
  
"So this is how it will be?" Heero's voice was flat, expressionless. The implications were clear, was Duo going to go behind his back for everything involving Shingam?  
  
"No! But you know how I feel about my faith, how important it is to me. You've told me before that Buddhism has no form of baptism, and it's almost a way of thinking instead of a religion. Heero, Catholics believe that you don't go to heaven unless your baptized, I've told you that before too! I have to protect Shingam! I wasn't able to protect him before, and now that I can, I'm going to protect him no matter what! Right now all I can do is make sure his soul has a chance, just a chance! I won't lose both of my children!"  
  
Tears fell from Duo's eyes as he again surcam to tears. It was so unlike Duo. Tears were never things Duo indulged in, and yet over the last few day's Quatre believed that he'd cried more than in his entire life.  
  
Heero too must have noticed the animalistic nature of Duo's protectiveness, for some of the fight seemed to drain from him.  
  
"I-I understand that this is important to you. I just wish that you had asked for my opinion."  
  
And like Heero before, the fight drained from Duo and he moved quickly to envelope his lover, unmindful for a moment that a man sanctioned to disapprove of their relationship stood three feet away.  
  
"I'm sorry Heero. I really am. If I didn't feel like it was the most important thing I could do for our son, then I would have waited and hammered out all the details with you. But this has to happen, Shingam has to be baptized. That's all I ask, after that, all I can do is teach him about God, he has to make up his own mind. But this, this is something a father gives to his son, a way to protect him from the sins of the past, from his father's sins. And we've sinned so much Heero, the fact that we're still breathing could be an abomination against God, sometimes I think it is. But Shingam's so young and innocent, he doesn't deserve to bear the weight of the things we were forced to do. He deserves better.  
  
"I swear I'll consult you about all the decisions in the future, but this one thing, Heero, this one thing you have to let me do for Shingam. Just this one thing." Duo's words died out as Heero cautiously nodded his head.  
  
"From now on-"  
  
"From now on I promise to make you listen to me chatter on about all kinds of things concerning Shingam, I promise." Heero nodded, and Duo leaned up to kiss him lightly in thanks before turning around and remembering a priest was standing in his living room. He had the decency to blush.  
  
"Um, Father, sorry about that."  
  
But Father Santiago only offered a soft smile. "Nothing to be sorry about, it's perfectly natural for two people to worry about decisions concerning their son. I also understand where you're coming from Duo, and while I don't want to encourage this incorrect impression you have that you're condemned to Hell, I will agree that baptizing Shingam is a good start on his path towards God. You're right that baptism usually requires the parents to take classes together to learn what it means to teach new members of the faith, but I'll hold you to your promise to attend since you seem so adamant about Shingam being baptized today. There are a few things we need to discuss however, before I'll perform the baptism."  
  
"Name it!" Now, assured that his son's soul was safe, Duo's mood was lighter and more carefree as he absently stepped closer to Heero and held out his hand for Shingam to take.  
  
"First I'll need consent from both of Shingam's parents for the baptism. I'll need to talk to his mother and ask her permission." Father Santiago paused at the strange look that crossed Duo's face. "Duo, it's only fair that I ask the child's mother."  
  
But Duo was shaking his head, and Quatre held his breath as he waited to figure out how Duo was going to talk himself out of this one. Quatre didn't expect honesty.  
  
"Actually, Father, in a very strange and twisted turn of events, Shingam doesn't have a mother, he has two fathers, Heero and myself. I know that sounds weird, but like I've said before, there are just some things that I can't tell you, and this is one of them. Believe me when I tell you that Shingam doesn't have a mother to ask, so if you need consent from both parents, you'll have to ask Heero and myself."  
  
For his part the priest looked perplexed, but it must have been something in the way Duo said it because the man simply nodded his head and turned to Heero. "Are you sure that this is what you want for your son?" Quatre smiled at the easy way the priest acknowledged Heero's rights as Shingam's other father.  
  
Heero nodded. "I want what's best for my son. I don't know much about Catholicism, but I'm willing to learn if it will help Shingam." The boy smiled up at Heero, and Heero returned the gesture, pulling the boy in close to his body.  
  
"Very well, the classes Duo and I mentioned will explain your role as Shingam's teacher in the faith. It's probably a safe bet that Duo will do most of the teaching, but having two willing parents is all the child really needs.  
  
"Now, for the second question. Shingam will need Godparents. Who do you have in mind?"  
  
Suddenly Duo smacked his hand into his forehead. "I totally forgot! Um." Duo looked desperately around the room, when his eyes finally fell onto himself and Trowa. Adamantly, Quatre shook his head.  
  
"I'm not even Christian! I wouldn't know where to begin. I don't even know what a Godparent is!" He shook his head as Duo's smile grew wider.  
  
"You don't have to be, all you have to do is promise to give Shingam the opportunity to study Catholicism if he chooses, you know, encourage him if something happens to me and Heero. Come on guys, it's not as if Shingam would go anywhere but to you two if something happened to Heero or I anyway, it's not like I'd let him go live with Relena or something equally as cruel!" Heero tugged on his braid for the final comment.  
  
But Quatre continued to shake his head. "We can't! I mean, we would if we could, but I wouldn't know where to begin. And what if we messed up and had him believing some strange religion no ones ever heard of?" He knew he was grasping at straws now, but what else could he do, he had no idea what it meant to raise a child Catholic, he was still wondering how he was going to raise his daughter Muslim.  
  
Heero's voice was soft when he spoke to Trowa. "I'd appreciate it if you'd take the position, Trowa. I'm not entirely sure what it entails, but I'd feel better knowing Shingam was being looked after by you and Quatre."  
  
Quatre recognized that more was at stake then just Shingam's Godparents, this was about who would take care of Shingam should anything happen to Heero and Duo, which in their line of work was scary but distinctly possible.  
  
Quatre heard Trowa's final argument on the subject, directed towards the priest. "I do not currently believe in any form of higher power, and while Quatre does believe in Allah, I have no god I pledge my allegiance to. If that will not harm Shingam's chances, then I will consent to being his Godparent, thought I too will need instruction on what that really means."  
  
Knowing Trowa's position was accepted by Father Santiago's nod, Quatre too relented. "I've been raised Muslim, but it's within my power to hire tutors to teach Shingam what I can't. I do promise that if something should happen to Heero or Duo, I'll do what I can to continue Shingam's teachings in his faith for as long as he wishes."  
  
And with that, everything was understood. Father Santiago settled quiet nicely into the bathroom with the green tub, while Duo spoke softly to Heero and Shingam. As Godparents to be, he and Trowa stood by the side of the tub with Killashandra at their feet, all watching as the water filled and the priest said a blessing over it.  
  
Once the baptism began, Father Santiago said a few prayers and then spoke to Shingam, asking him questions before moving on to Duo. Softly the priest extracted a promise from them all, to help Shingam in the ways of the Catholic faith and to encourage him to welcome God into his life.  
  
But it was as Father Santiago moved to gently submerge Shingam into the bathtub filled with holy water that everything again fell apart.  
  
"AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!"  
  
Before they knew what was happening, Killashandra screamed and launched herself towards Shingam, grabbing at his feet, latching onto him with all of her available strength. Her screams continued as she gripped Shingam with one hand and pulled the priests sleeve with the other.  
  
Trowa got to her first, sweeping her into his arms as Father Santiago righted Shingam before looking questioningly at Trowa in concern. But while Killa was no longer screaming, terror danced clearly in her eyes as she struggled in her papa's grasp. Her terror slammed into Quatre and he felt it like a physical blow.  
  
Moving quickly, he took Killashandra from Trowa's grasp and held her tightly, rocking her has he tried his best to sooth her fears.  
  
"Shhhhhhh, Killa, it's ok. Shingam's alright. Father Santiago isn't going to hurt him, Shingam's alright. I know you're scared of the water, but look, see, it's just water, no strange blue colors, and Shingam isn't afraid, are you Shingam? See, Killa, everything's ok. Shingam's alright. Papa and I would never let anything happen to you or Shingam, and Shingam's Daddies wouldn't allow anything bad to happen to him either. It's ok, Sweetheart, it's ok." He rocked her back and forth, mumbling softly to her to calm her racing heartbeat and the turbulent emotions he still sensed from her.  
  
"Quatre?"  
  
He turned to smile sadly at his lover. "She's ok, just scared. I don't think she really understood what was going on. She just got afraid for Shingam." He turned back to his now calming child.  
  
"It's alright, Killa. Everything's alright." Softly, Trowa's hand rubbed soothing circles into Killa's back, and Quatre felt her body relax at their combined caresses.  
  
Below him, Shingam pulled on his pant leg until he dropped to a squat before the boy. Silently, Shingam conversed with Killa until Quatre could no longer sense his daughter's emotions. After a few minutes of Shingam and Killashandra's silent communications, and hearing Duo offer a weak explanation to Father Santiago, Killa finally wound her arms about his neck and lay limply against him.  
  
"She's ok now, Quatre." Shingam looked almost sadly at him. "Killa got scared 'cause Father Santiago looks like the bad man a little. I told her it was ok, that he didn't hurt me and she's ok now. She's just tired. Screaming makes Killa tired."  
  
Quatre didn't even want to think about the implications of Shingam's last sentence.  
  
The rest of the ceremony went on quietly. When prompted, Heero answered Father Santiago's final question, and the priest finally ended the ceremony.  
  
"I christen you, Shinigami Oden Maxwell-Yuy. May you always walk the path towards God, and allow him to enter into your life. In the name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit, Amen." 


End file.
